


Brooklyn Baby

by The_MoonBear



Category: Sons of Anarchy, The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Ace!Thranduil, Age Difference, Bakery and Coffee Shop, Bi!Thorin, Domestic Violence, Drug Dealing, M/M, Past Abuse, Sex Drugs and Rock and Roll, Sexual Tension, Sugar Daddy Thorin, Trashy Artist Thranduil
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-08
Updated: 2018-03-05
Packaged: 2018-03-21 21:00:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 24,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3704683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_MoonBear/pseuds/The_MoonBear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thorin Oakenshield takes pride in being the president of the Sons of Anarchy, a well respected man and the responsible of keeping danger away from his town. But when the young runaway Thranduil Greenleaf comes to Charming carrying a troubled past with him, he knows his whole world might turn upside down. Thorin falls for him with a single glance, but he has a town to take care of before worrying for the whims of his own heart. Thranduil had enough with men and feelings at his young age, and all he's looking for is a home. Could it be that there is a place where they can both get what they need?</p><p>Thanks to Lana del Rey for providing me inspiration for this fic, as well as the name for it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Got a light in your eyes, I can see it

"Hey dipshit, we're going to Elrond's, you coming?", asked Bilbo heading inside the messy bedroom on the back of the club house.

The dipshit in question was leaving the restroom wearing only a pair of worn out skinny jeans. His long black hair with strands of silver here and there was hanging loose at his back. Thorin Oakenshield was a fine man by any standards, and Bilbo often told him that he would fuck him stupid if he wasn't so sure dicks weren't really his thing.

"We as in...?", he asked, grabbing the cleanest shirt he was able to find amongst the piles of dirty laundry from at least two weeks. The black tank top he grabbed smelled decently, he decided.

"We as in Dwalin, Faramir, Éomer and your nephews. And me, of course", he pointed out with a smirk.

"Kili can't go, he has school tomorrow", Thorin said frowning in disbelief, "the lad's been expelled from three schools last year only for showing up drunk to class, and he still has the nerve to join the club's hanging outs? I'll have a word with the bastard".

"Don't tell me, his brother also told him not to come but he insisted", said Bilbo shrugging. "He sure knows what he's doing".

"Please, he's eighteen, not thirty seven".

"You're thirty seven and you still have no fucking idea of what you're doing Thorin", remarked Bilbo, getting a dirty pair of socks being tossed at his mouth with remarkable speed. He cursed the taller man and they both started laughing.

"Anyway, you coming tonight?", asked Bilbo again grabbing the leather vest from the chair next to the bed and tossing it in Thorin's direction, who was fixing his hair in a messy bun. The man sighed.

"It looks like I don't have a choice, aye?", he said, and putting on the leather vest he followed his triumphant smiling best friend towards the entrance of the house club, where his brothers and nephews were already starting the party.

He had to hold back a shriek when he saw Kili having two vodka shots in a row.

 

* * *

 

Fifteen minutes later they were arriving at Elrond's in a roaring row of bikes with Thorin at the head.

As much as he hated the reponsability sometimes, he had to recognize that being the president of a motorcycling club was also one of the coolest things in the world. He loved riding, he loved sharing his passion with his brothers, and he also loved being admired. Sure, being respected and getting favours from everybody was also a great side effect, but the sheer glow in people's eyes when he passed them by riding his Harley was, deep inside, the reason why he loved being a rider.

In Charming, California, being a member of the Sons of Anarchy was like being royalty.

And the feeling intensified every time they stepped inside the bar and people immediately left their usual seats if they were taken. Girls surrounded them in a second, their favourite songs started playing, and a smiling joyful Elrond greeted them with beers on the house.

"Thorin, old man, you look good", the owner of the bar said after hugging him. The broad man responded with a tired smile.

"You wish you could rock those forties like I do, don't ya?", he teased.

"Don't mention it, Arwen is leaving to Harvard soon. College, Thorin, she was five and I had to take her to the park last week or so. When did I become an old fat bar owner with a grown up daughter, huh?", the man said, getting a chuckle from Thorin.

"Probably around the time I watched my two nephews turn legal and join the Sons", he pointed out with a long sip from his beer.

"Aye, I heard little Killian turned eighteen last month, I never got to congratulate the lad".

"Oh, my brothers did, don't worry", Thorin said rolling his eyes. "I'm still trying to get rid of the stench of orgies and drunk vomit at the club house, ugh", he said shaking his head, Elrond laughing at his friend's disgrace.

"Boys will be boys, old friend. Hey, talking about nephews, I hope I'm not bringing this up in a bad time. My sort-of-nephew is in town and his father ordered me to get him a place and a job if possible, would you know of any of those available?", asked Elrond in a sudden low voice, slightly uncomfortable with the request.

"I'm sure I can find both if I pull the right strings, but... sort-of?", wondered Thorin. He had never heard of other relatives of Elrond other than his daughter and his late wife.

"He's the son of my stepbrother. Oropher is a dickhead, but Thranduil is a good kid and I want to make things right for him, he's been having it hard lately and it would be nice giving him a break", explained Elrond with a sort of urgent edge on his voice. Thorin immediately wondered what Elrond was hiding about the kid, but he decided that any person related to him was worth the shot.

"I'd love to help, sure. I'll make some calls tomorrow. Where is he staying now?".

"Upstairs. I gave him the, uhm, courtesy room", said the man, blushing slightly. Thorin smirked at that. Poor lad.

"Alright then, I'll keep Dwalin away from it", replied Thorin with a half smile, eyeing the ginger beauty who was sitting on the bald man's lap and pretty honest about her intentions. He hoped in his heart that they had somewhere else to spend the night.

"Wanna meet him?", suggested Elrond. Why did he sound so eager at once? _What wicked scheme was going through Elrond's head?,_ wondered Thorin, but he agreed with a nod. The man nodded in turn and walked away from the bar towards the stairs.

Thorin reclined on the worn out wood from the bar, thinking about how the quiet night he had planned turned into the usual mess his life was around the club. He found himself studying the table where his friends were loudly drinking and joking with each other.

Dwalin and Éomer were challenging one another to take shots, and by the looks of it Dwalin was about to scandalously lose. Faramir and Fili were fighting over the peanut bowl while Bilbo discretely ate them and Kili was lying on his shoulder telling him how much he admired him for keeping his hair neat all the time. The short man seemed amused at the kid's honesty induced by alcohol. They all shouted and cheered at once when Dwalin refused the shot and Éomer took it standing on the chair, being applauded by his brothers.

An affectionate smile reached Thorin's lips. They could be a pain in the ass 24/7, but as sure as hell those men were the thing he loved the most in the world. Tired, broken, shattered to the bones, he would've been happy and willing to bleed for them anytime, anywhere, to keep them safe.

They were all he needed in the world to feel whole.

"Thorin, may I introduce you Thranduil Greenleaf?", said Elrond distracting him from his inner soliloquy.

He would later ponder why he expected finding a young clone of his old friend when he turned around to meet the guy in question, because _Holy Fucking Mother of Christ_ , he was certainly not expecting that blond beauty to appear in front of him.

The man standing shyly in front of him was young, very young, probably not much older than Fili, who was twenty three. He was tall and slender, with the kind of features you would think Scandinavian royalty would have. His face was pale and smooth, and the lights of the bar gave it a mystical glow. Or was it just his own astonishment? His long silver golden hair hung in a careless ponytail at his back, a few strands of loose hair framing his fair face. Thorin thought he probably looked stupid staring at him, because the thin lips of the young man half smiled in amusement and a spark appeared in his blue eyes, the bluest he had ever seen, deep and clear like the calm ocean in a cold morning. They were odd, not it a bad way, they just were. It was like looking into the eyes of an old soul, one with more memories and wisdom than they showed at first. Shit, he was turning into a cheesy poet now? Damn right he might be, for those eyes deserved every single verse in the world.

But he had to react before he damaged his reputation forever. He cleared his throat and offered a hand and a warm smile.

"Thorin Oakenshield, nice to meet you", he managed to say.

The young man smiled openly now, reaching for his calloused hand. Those elegant fingers were cold and soft, but the grip was firm. _He might seem fragile, but was not a man to be messed with_ , Thorin thought. And that it was a shame that such a beautiful hand was so cold, it deserved to be warm. Dear Lord, what the hell was going on with him?

"Alright then, I'll leave you to get to know each other better", said Elrond clearing his throat discretely. "Try not to scare the lad, yeah, old mate?", he added arching an eyebrow at Thorin, who chuckled in response. Thranduil also was quietly laughing.

"For the record I don't get scared easily, uncle", were the first words pronounced by him. Thorin was surprised to find out how deep Thranduil's voice was. Like his eyes, it felt like the voice of and old soul trapped in a beautiful young carcase.

And then Elrond left, and they were left alone together.

"Why do I get the impression that you expected something different?", asked Thranduil after a few seconds. Thorin stared at his shoes before facing that handsome face again. He head not lost the smile yet.

"Don't get me wrong, you truly are something to behold, but yeah I somehow expected someone more..."

"Elrond-like?", supplied Thranduil with a fun smirk.

"Elrond-like, yes, sort of", agreed Thorin taking a sip from his beer.

"Well then, I'm sorry for disappointing you", the tall boy said with a dash of irony in his voice. Thorin observed that his lips were shaped in a way that made it look like he was constantly pouting, and he found it tremendously adorable.

"Oh trust me, I'm far from disappointment right now", he said winking. Thranduil chuckled again, making Thorin blush at the musical sound of his laughter. Shit, did that man managed to wreck him in a single glance?

"To be fair, you're everything I expected you not to be", confessed Thranduil tilting his head with the ghost of a smoke in the corner of his lips.

"What would that be?"

"Elrond speaks of you in a way that made me picture a scary bearded husky king of bikers with a grim expression and a beer stomach". Thranduil paused to openly check him out then, and Thorin felt his gaze like a cold caress. He slightly shuddered.

"I see the beard, and I certainly see a royal edge in you, but then all I see is a fit handsome rider with dreamy eyes", continued Thranduil shortening the distance between them, an appreciative smirk on his face as he approached.

Thorin took in a sharp breath. He had always believed that the scent of a person was a subtle underappreciated presentation card. And holy shit, that scent gave him such a great first impression. Thranduil smelled like cinnamon, warm wood and an autumn sun, if such scent existed. It certainly existed in him.

Thorin felt suddenly too self aware and regretted not wearing a cleaner shirt.

"Are you alright?", Thranduil asked in a low voice. Thorin stared at him, at his suddenly concerned blue eyes, and forced to pull himself back together.

"Yeah, I'm good, sorry, I really have no idea what to do when I get a compliment so I go and look like an idiot until I get to react", he mumbled in a rush, brushing the moment off. Thranduil didn't move, but somehow Thorin felt like there was a sort of distance between them now. Fuck, he had screwed the moment, didn't he?

"Sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I was just being honest", stated in a low voice again, actually pouting a bit.

_You fucking dimwit, Thorin Oakenshield._

"No need to apologize, sweetheart, I'm the weirdo here", he quickly added, patting Thranduil's shoulder. As the smile formed in his lips again, Thorin played dumb at the fact that he had already given him a pet name, and he also tried really hard not to freak out over the fact that he was touching him. Damn, his shirt was cold, and he guessed the skin under it too. How could he smell so warm yet being so cold?

"Anyway, I should go back with my boys. I'll give you my number, alright?", continued Thorin writing his number in a napkin and handing it in to Thranduil. "You can call me anytime, if you need anything I'm always available. I'll be in touch so I can let you know about any apartment or job, alright sweetheart?".

There it was, that 'sweetheart' again. Shit.

"Works for me", agreed Thranduil with a nod, searching for something in his pockets. He retrieved a bubblegum wrapping paper and wrote something in it. "That one is my number, if... you know, something comes out".

Thorin smiled at the pink paper and the messy handwriting. He felt a warm and sharp pinch in his heart when he noticed Thranduil had written a heart over the i. What a silly gorgeous bastard.

"Right, I'll see you around then, Thranduil", said Thorin walking towards the Sons' table. "Take care".

"Thorin", called out Thranduil when he was just about to take a seat. The man stood expectant, and Thranduil raised the corner of his lips in a teasing smile. "If nothing comes out, you can call me too", he said, and quickly turned around to return upstairs.

Thorin was still starstruck looking at the blur where Thranduil's golden hair had just been a second ago when he started feeling a small crowd piercing his nape with questioning stares. As soon as he grabbed a chair and got comfortable, the laser stares placed all at once over his face. Bilbo looked particularly eager.

"What?", demanded Thorin with an innocent smile.

"'what', he says", mocked Bilbo. " _What the fuck was that?_ "

"Yeah, when's the wedding, 'sweetheart'?", added Fili making kissing sounds, a burst of laughter emerging from the circle.

"May I be the best man? I can help you write your wedding vows", said Faramir clapping his hands like a child.

"Think of the kids, Thorin, get a room next time!", said Dwalin hugging Kili protectively, the boy not truly conscious of what was going on but laughing nonetheless.

"Here, man", added Eomer tossing him a textured condom. Thorin tossed it back at him with a hoarse laugh.

"Cut the bullshit already, bunch of ratty ball sacks!", Thorin said, an embarrassed smile spread on his lips.

"No but seriously man, what the _fuck_ was that? I could hear your asshole splitting open for him from here", continued Bilbo. Thorin wisely ignored the comment and composed the most serious expression he was able to. That was until he remembered Thranduil's face and epically failed.

"Okay now, you little shit. He's Elrond's nephew, he'll be around for a while and Elrond thought I might help him finding a place and a job, that's it", Thorin explained loosely pretending not being compromised at all, knowing his easiness was sheer bullshit.

"Right", Bilbo sarcastically mumbled.

Thorin had to laugh at his best friend's I-buy-none-of-your-shit face.  
"Fine, he's gorgeous as hell, so what? I'm a grown up man, I can deal with my own shit", he spat, now a little irritated about the matter.

"Yeah, inform your dick about that fact, would ya?", said Bilbo bitterly. "I know you, Thorin, I know that stupid huge heart of yours so very well. Be careful, you look like you could fall for this guy".

"Jeez, who's the biggest drama queen in town?", mocked Thorin, hugging the little man playfully.

But as the conversation flowed into an easy chaos again, Thorin discretely glanced at the stairs every few minutes expecting to find the slender young man and his golden autumn glow, and found himself wondering how right Bilbo would be this time.

It was too early to say, but as the scent of Thranduil filled his memory he felt in his guts that this one would be a hard fall. He couldn't wait for it.

 

* * *

 

Thranduil was shaking.

Dear Lord, Thorin Oakenshield was by far one of the most attractive men he had ever encountered in his life. He reflected such confidence, such majesty, and yet he could see in the man's weary eyes a caring, gentle soul he could easily fall for. He had always had a thing for men like him, but he had never found one he wanted to get to know.

And the way he looked at him, like he was a rare jewel. Did Thorin really like him?, Thranduil wondered, touching his face and remembering how his eyes had caressed him before. Had he found something in him that was worth being looked at?

He was standing eagerly at the top of the stairs, paying attention at the sounds downstairs, hopping hearing once more that throaty laugh amidst all the other meaningless voices.

"HAHAHAHA!"

Oh, there it was, that sweet thunder, he thought with an unconscious smile, letting out the air he didn't know he was holding on. But he quickly lost his smile as all of his problems returned at the same time, kept hidden under the spell of Thorin's eyes for a moment.

He was a runaway, homeless, penniless, chased by the law and emotionally broken. It was too soon and too inappropriate to even think of getting involved with someone again. He had come to his uncle with the purpose of putting his life together, and that was his priority, not his broken stupid heart. He could fix it once he was back on his feet.

But as Thranduil got the muffled echo of Thorin's laughter again, his heart throbbed with hope, allowing himself dive for a second in the fantasy of finding a home in that beautiful man. And then the sound faded, and a deep void filled his chest again.

 _Easy, heart, this will pass too_ , he told himself.

He went to the king size bed and laid curling on himself, staring at his phone on the night table. He was still clutching the napkin with Thorin's number in his fist, wondering when would he call him. Or when he would find the courage to call himself.

Whatever might come first, he could hardly wait. His instinct rarely failed him, and this time it was telling him that any direction his life could take from now on, it started with Thorin Oakenshield. He only needed to keep low that shy little voice at the back of his head telling him that the man himself could be the path.


	2. Every now and then, the stars align

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so incredibly sorry for the delay for this chapter! Life got in the middle of my creativity and I just couldn't sit and write. I'm not so pleased with the final result now, luckily if my brain allows me I'll be able to write it in a way that makes sense later, I do hope you enjoy it guys. And I'm also extremely thankful for all the nice reviews I got in the first chapter, you were one of my biggest reasons for me to find a way of continue with this story.Thank you so much <3

The week had gone by busy yet painfully slow for the Reaper Crew. Other MCs in northern Cali took pride in being on the dark side of the law, but that wasn't the case of the Sons, therefore they were always busy working and involved in the community's activities.

For instance, that week they had offered their help to build a new animal shelter, (project started and lead by Fili, which had made everyone incredibly proud), they gave a motivational talk in the community centre for addicts in recovery and they helped the ladies with the organization of a fund raise destined to save the town's largest park from ruin. On top of that, it was that time of the year where they usually fixed their bikes from scratch, and that meant a constant flow of Sons walking around the house club, which also worked as a mechanical workshop.

Being the president of the MC, the legal owner of the workshop and also the most skilled mechanic in town, Thorin had the roughest time of them all, of course.

Besides all the work he had with the bikes and the projects, he had also had to deal with Kili. As predicted, he had showed up drunk to school on Monday and he had got away with it only because the headmaster was an old friend of Thorin and owed him a few favours. His mother did nothing about it, as usual, so Thorin had to take care of the scolding. Not that Kili paid him much attention, anyway. And there was also that mysterious man who had come to him two nights ago with a proposition he knew it was stupid to ignore, and for once it had nothing to do with sex.

But nothing compared to how stressful it had been not being able to text or call Thranduil Greenleaf during all that time.

Not that he didn't have the time, and he would never admit it in front of anyone, but he spent literally hours staring at the young man's number on the screen of his phone thinking of what to say without sounding like a spooky old man creeping over him. Part of the stress also had to do with the fact that he had found no suitable job opportunities for Thranduil neither a place for him to stay. He would've gladly offered his own house for him to stay but, you know, there was an unwritten rule of being able to text someone before invite them to stay over. Bilbo had said a few days earlier that he would ask someone about some job, but it was Saturday morning and he still had no news about it.

That lilliputian brat would get his fleshy ass kicked anytime soon.

As Thorin poured hot coffee in his favourite mug and finished texting all of his brothers about the urgent meeting he had planned for not later than lunchtime, he found himself letting his mind wander over the blurry memory of Thranduil. He often asked himself over the past week if the picture he had of the young man was real or it was a fantasy induced by a mix of loneliness and alcohol, but as sure as hell it was something worthy of being remembered. He tried really hard of convincing himself that he hadn't developed a major crush on Elrond's nephew after a ten minute talk, but as he tasted the cinnamon he had added to his coffee he smiled and called himself a big ass liar. Damn, he had to find an excuse to text him soon or he would explode.

The club house main door creaked and the cold morning sunlight bathed the wide hall as a chubby old man stepped quietly inside followed by a bunch of grumpy men who were not nearly as quiet as him. The man smiled widely at Thorin as soon as he reached the bar where he younger man was having breakfast. Thorin smiled back at the old man, conveniently avoiding the bunch of annoyed swearing men.

"Balin", he greeted coming out from behind the bar to hug the tiny man. Balin patted the man's cheek, a gesture he hadn't changed in the almost thirty years they had known each other.

"Glad to see you too, lad", said Balin sitting on a worn stool. "May I have a cup of that coffee?"

"I'll take one too", grunted Dwalin taking his sunglasses off and rubbing his eyes, the hungover written all over him. Éomer was also made a mess, his hair still wet from a probably cold shower and leaning on Dwalin to keep balance. He nodded and raised over his head as a sign that he wanted a drink as well.

"I'll just shoot a dose of caffeine straight to my brain, thank you", said Bilbo stumbling towards the leather couch. "You bloody saint patron of douchebags had to call for a meeting on Saturday morning, did you?"

"The actual meeting is after lunch, dickhead. I needed you three before that", replied Thorin distributing mugs. He took his own mug before starting talking about the issue. He had no idea how that would turn up.

"Start talking then", demanded Éomer in a cracked voice, diving in the couch next to Bilbo.

"Right", said Thorin, half laughing. "I met this guy at Elrond's two nights ago. Tailored suit, five grand shoes, air force material phone, you know the type. He said he was searching for men able to transport, uh, commodity for him near the Mexican border, and he said I looked the type who could do the job. I said I'd think about it and I did. It's worth the shot, at least".

"What kind of commodity, lad?", asked Balin, his voice thick with distrust.

"Not drugs or guns, if your thoughts were heading there. Hardware. Phones, cameras, GPS, that kind of stuff".

"Sounds legal, why not hiring a transport service? You know, certified and all?", asked Dwalin, following the same trail of thoughts than Balin.

"Yeah, I smelled bullshit too. So I asked him and he said that those gadgets are from particular brands that are not being shipped to neither the US or Mexico, but his business apparently works with those brands overseas, so he's bringing them and selling to the Mexicans sort of out of the record, which is why he would need... not particularly legal transport, but not illegal either", pointed out Thorin staring straight at Balin. The old man, as well as the others, seemed to be considering the deal.

"What did he offer you exactly?", asked Bilbo after a whole minute of silence.

"Shipping twice a month, thirty grand cash after each one", supplied Thorin in a low voice, letting it sink in. It was a shit ton of money and it couldn't be overlooked so easily.

"For Christ's sakes Thorin, that's a lot. Do we even know who this guy is?", asked Dwalin, scratching his bald tattooed head.

"He said I could call him 'The Dragon', but nay, we have no idea who he is. He does have a sort of lost British accent, like a guy from London living in New York, if that helps? But who cares, if he can afford it I don't care if he's the bloody son of Hitler, we could use that money", insisted Thorin.

"You don't have money issues, son, why do you need this extra income?", asked Balin. Thorin could feel the X-ray vision of the old man on him scanning for bullshit, buy luckily he had a few years of practice dodging it. He'd keep it to himself for now.

"I have my reasons, Balin, and I assume you all have some reason to back me up in this one, don't ya?", he pushed. Bilbo seemed particularly disturbed, and it had almost nothing to do with the hangover.

"I could definitely buy a new stove and a new fridge, I've been eating crap for the past few weeks since I can't cook my own meals", he admitted.

Thorin nodded, trying to hide the triumphant smile he felt forming on his face. He could almost hear their brains making plans for the money as they silently agreed with him. Only Balin didn't seem convinced.

"It looks like you lads have already decided", he pointed out in defeat.

"I won't bring this up for voting unless you agree, Balin, you know that", reassured Thorin in a low voice.

"I'm a bit pressured here, as you can see", he said nodding in the expectant men's direction. He finally sighed and defeat was now written all over his body. "Alright lad. Count me in. I just hope you're making the right decision for everyone here".

Thorin stared at his mug. He hoped so too.

 

* * *

 

Four hours later the Sons were leaving the hall of meetings with an unanimous vote in favour of the job offered by the mysterious man, with the condition of a meeting to agree the terms of the delivery. Everyone was actually thrilled about this new business, specially due to the fact that it seemed legal. Honor was not a joke for them, they just couldn't afford to cross that line.

Thorin felt particularly positive, and he was about to head to the garage to start with the scheduled repairs for his Harley when he was intercepted by Bilbo.

"I'm such a bonehead, I can't believe I forgot. I may have a job for that kid, Thrandir or whatever his name was".

Thorin's stomach twisted at the mention of Thranduil, a goddamn army of butterflies attacking his belly as retaliation for all the hours he had not been able to think of the blond beauty. Damn it, how long the teenage bullshit was going to last?

"Thranduil, you moron. What is it?", he wanted to know.

"My cousin Lobelia thinks her coffee shop sucks and he wants to hire a decorator to fix it. I first told her that her filthy rat hole had no hope, but then I remembered that this kid looks like a crappy artist from NYC, he might fit the job"

"Hey, he's not a crappy artist!", said Thorin punching Bilbo in a shoulder.

"Oh really? And you know that for all the long and touching conversations you had with him lately?"

_Well, fuck me._

"I have no idea what you're talking about"

"I've known you for enough time to know that stupid face you make when you stare at your phone squeezing your brain to text something clever to your crush, God, it's annoying", accused Bilbo. Although the tone he was using was mocking, there was an implied disapproval which made Thorin realize how badly he had crushed on the guy.

"I didn't have a reason to tell him anything, it's not that we spent the night together and I had to call him later", he excused himself.

"Right, because two people can't meet over coffee, shocking", replied Bilbo thick with sarcasm. A small alarm beeped at the back of his skull as soon as he heard that tone. He thought it had been lost for quite a while now.

"Bilbo, are you trying to hook me up with this kid?", he asked. Bilbo tried to keep a straight face but gave up to Thorin's killing gaze. His features turned mocking and a slight guilt passed over them.

"You turn a grumpy piece of shit when you don't fuck, mate, I'm investing in my mental health by trying to get you some"'

Thorin had to hug his brother even though he complained and tried to loose the hug for the entire five seconds it lasted. By the time they broke apart, Bilbo had regained his composture.

"For the record though, I don't like this kid. I have a bad feeling about him", he said. Thorin tried really hard to take the warning seriously but he just couldn't. Not when Bilbo said it every single time he knew someone. Every. Single. Time.

"Keep repeating it until you're actually right, fuckboy", he said, and started walking towards the garage.

"Yeah, maybe one day you can finally keep one, you twat!", the shorter man shouted at his back.

Thorin was still laughing when he reached the garage and he grabbed his phone, starting to type a message that he would actually send this time. But oh boy, he had had a million times to imagine versions of this message during the past week and now that he had to send it for real he was terrified. It was the kind of thing he could very well be telling to his kids in a future, the first time he texted Dad and how it had been a perfectly clever and sweet message...

_Dammit, Oakenshield, just keep it short and on point._

**(12.01) Hey there! It's Thorin Oakenshield, we met last week at Elrond's? I was wondering if you still needed a job, I think I have something for you. Let me know! :)**

It was not clever or sweet or anything special, but it was something. As he typed the phone buzzed in his hands with an incoming text, but he ignored it and pressed Send before taking it back for the thousandth time. When the tiny okay sign showed up next to the text Thorin smiled, pleased with the accomplished task, and then proceeded to check the message he had ignored.

But the smile froze on his face as he read it, and he had to double check the name on the screen to make sure he wasn't dreaming.

**(12.01) hey hotshot! hope ur not busy, sorry 4 being annoying, just checking if u remember me**

It was from Thranduil.

Thorin was seriously considering screaming out loud when he got another message.

**(12.03) wow if that wasn't perfect timing I don't know what it is**

Thorin chuckled nerviously as he typed again. He was about to make a risky move that it could be either the most smooth brilliant movement in history or the the douchiest slutiest movement in history.

**(12.05) Me "casually" picking you up in fifteen minutes for a lunch meeting, maybe?**

The phone buzzed again after barely seconds.

**(12.06) sounds good 2 me ;)**

_Oakenshield, you lucky bastard_ , he thought as he started the bike and climbed it with a smug smile over his face. Many people would say that going from 'I have no idea what to text' to 'I'm picking you up for lunch' in just a few minutes was a manwhore act, but Thorin was old enough to know that being in the same page than the universe didn't happen very often, so he had to rush to take it once it happened.

Ignoring the fucking army of butterflies raiding his stomach and his hands suddenly suffering from chronic trembling, he adjusted his helmet and rode to Elrond's as fast as he could without reaching the speed limit.

He respected the law, yes, but had lost three of the fifteen minutes already and he had no intentions of getting late.

He was never late for first dates.


	3. I heard the streets were paved with gold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe how fast I finished this! Alright, for all those who have watched Sons of Anarchy, the description of Charming that I make in this chapter is not the most accurate, but let's pretend it is. I thank all of you once more for your reviews, and by the way, although I know where this is going I'm open to all suggestions for this story, don't be shy!

Thorin would later invent a memory in which the ride to Elrond's was music video material, the sun shining upon him and his hair flowing gracefully with the air that passed him by as he showed off his bike and himself across the town.

And although it probably looked like that, back on Earth he was actually extremely nervous, his just acquired smugness vanishing more and more with each block he left behind. Alright, yes, it was just a date, probably a business one, in a public place run by Bilbo's cousin who happened to be the biggest babbler in Charming and his every word would be spread along the ladies' living rooms by the morrow, but it was only a date nonetheless. And yes, he knew that he would act like a total retard once he saw Thranduil again, but he would make his best to be a grown up man, a mature gentleman who was making a favour to a friend's relative. Just another favour for someone who needed his help.

But then again, the people he used to help never happened to be fallen angels who smelled like cinnamon and sunlight and managed to make him go through a second puberty, so he could freak out as much as he fucking liked, thank you very much.

Thorin was still reciting an inner monologue justifying his nerves and trying to ignore how much his hands trembled when he realized he was already at Elrond's. And that's when he decided that maturity could kiss his ass when he felt his stomach drop and burn with anxiety and he felt the need to scream or punch something: he had noticed Thranduil standing casually against the wall of the bar. The young man smiled and waved.

As he approached him Thorin observed that the young man was wearing a pair of really worn out jeans and a loose light blue T shirt of a band which Thorin could not identify. Black boots, a grey plaid shirt, sunglasses and a messy bun on top of his head completed the look, and Thorin was convinced that he was, indeed, an angel.

"You're late, rider", was Thranduil's greeting as soon as he was close enough to be heard by Thorin despite the loud engine. He smiled playfully at Thorin, who immediately checked the time on his phone. He was actually late by five minutes. Damn it.

"That depends on how much I made you wait out here", he said in turn, a crooked smug smile coming out of nowhere for he was still silently freaking out.

"Enough to make me believe that the stars are not so aligned after all", teased Thranduil. Thorin chuckled and avoided Thranduil's gaze as if he was embarrassed, which wasn't exactly false, but it was more accurate that he needed to look away because the young man's features were too distracting and he was too close of saying a stupidity if he kept staring. And all that without the slightest glance at the young man's eyes, since he had not removed his sunglasses yet.

 _Your turn to say something, you clever dipshit,_ he reminded to himself.

"Never trust those motherfuckers, sweetheart, if we let giant fire balls determine our fate we certainly deserve all the bad things that happen to us", Thorin managed to articulate, and Thranduil's laughter was like the sound of rain after many days of the burning heat in August.

_Aaaalright, keep it cool Sylvia Plath._

"Anyway, my apologies for keeping you waiting. I'll take you to meet Mrs Baggins and then we can stop somewhere to get some lunch. Have you ever ridden a bike?"

"Never one like this, but I have once nor twice", replied Thranduil. Thorin wondered why he looked so smug all of a sudden.

"Hold on tight then, sugar", he said, knowingly mimicking Thranduil's expression while he tied his hair in a hurried bun, not nearly as graceful as the young man's but it would do. He had never ridden such a bike, huh? _It will be my pleasure._

The coffee shop owned by Bilbo's cousin was only ten blocks away from Elrond's bar, so Thorin's intention was making a U turn and make it there in a few minutes... until he felt Thranduil's slender arms tighten around his waist and decided that he needed those arms there for as long as he was allowed. 

"Uhm, are you in a hurry, kid?", he asked, hoping the wreck in his voice went unnoticed. 

"Not particularly, no", he replied right next to Thorin's ear. He felt a sharp wave of goosebumps at the warm breath on his exposed neck and tried his hardest to not lose his shit right there. 

"Has Elrond shown you around yet? I can give you a quick tour if you like", Thorin offered, hoping it didn't sound as a desperate attempt to spend more time in his company. 

"Oh, please and thank you, I'm sick of knowing only the parking lot of this bar!", Thranduil replied. Thorin could not see it, but he imagined an excited smile on the young man's face and he felt like smiling too. And a second later he was taking the long street that surrounded the town so he could show Thranduil his beloved town.

He deliberately rode through a part of the highway that lead to the reservation in the north so Thranduil could see the impressive landscape, extremely pleased to hear a muffled gasp from the boy every once in a while. He only decided to return to the street right before they were on their way to San Joaquin; not that he didn't want to continue, but it was a bit extreme for a so called 'quick tour'. The street bifurcated and turned into the main street on the left side, so Thorin took it and slowed down so he could tell Thranduil what he was showing him. 

"This is our very own Central Park minus the zoo because we can't afford it and the lake which is in another park. Here we have shows, fairs and that kind of shit every once in a while", he said when they reached the town hall park. "Over there you'll see the town hall, and the police station is a few blocks away from here, in that direction", he continued pointing in front of him, "if ever in trouble, ask for officer Beorn and say my name, he'll fix any trouble you have, alright?".

"Right!", shouted Thranduil over the loud roar, and Thorin took speed again.

The main street composed of five blocks which had stores only, two hotels and the police station, so Thorin decided that he could skip it. After a few more blocks he turned left and took a street he knew very well.

"As Elrond might have told you, I own a mechanic workshop, you'll see it at your right a few meters ahead", he exposed, pointing with his head at the spot. Thorin internally cursed as soon as he checked that there were at least four brothers joined there, and was that Faramir's wife? Ugh, fantastic. Great. _May they suck my dick later_ , he thought catching speed. Finally he turned to the left one more time and stopped the bike three blocks later, in the entrance of a coffee shop/sort of diner. 

"Here we are. If you follow this very same street in the opposite direction of the one we came from, you'll get to Elrond's. It's not a big town as you can see, but it's a decent place to make yourself a home in it, I think", he said with a crooked proud smile. 

Only then he realized that Thranduil could probably not see him, because he was still holding Thorin's waist with a firm grip. Which, of course, filled Thorin's chest with a sort of alpha male pride. But then he realized that people were passing by and they were staring, so he decided he now needed to be mature. Whatever.

"You can let go now", he suggested in a low voice, letting him know by his tone that it was just a tiny suggestion and he had no real desire of him to do so. 

"Oh, sorry", Thranduil mumbled. Thorin noticed that the young man seemed to catch his tone, because he loosed the grip slowly and only lost contact with him once he was on his feet. God, even through the leather of his vest he had felt the warmth of those arms, and now he felt the loss of it.

"Worry not, sugar. Did you enjoy it?", he asked. Thranduil chose that moment to remove his sunglasses and look at Thorin, and that was the moment in which he completely lost the battle against the army of butterflies. The blue he remembered did no make justice at all to those perfectly shaped irises which glowed like sapphires in the depths of a calm ocean that even a god of storms who was too afraid of disturbing, for it was a blessed serenity the one that laid in those rare pools of blue.

 _And if you keep reciting inner lousy poetry every time you look at him, you might as well recite a eulogy for your balls._ Shit, had Thranduil noticed his wreck?

He was smirking like he had done in the bar all those nights ago, when he was looking at him and telling him how handsome he was. _Jesus Fucking Christ, shut your face or I'll burn myself right here._

"It was one hell of a ride, thank you Thorin", he finally said, and the man could barely hold it together when he heard his name purred in Thranduil's deep sweet voice. 

"You're very welcome, sweetheart", he said nonchalantly, successfully hiding the mess he was inside in that moment. "Shall we?", he said, and walked towards the door of the coffee shop which, of course, he held so Thranduil could walk inside. 

There were about seven people at Sackville's, and the owner herself serving some of them. The wind chime placed on the door announced their arrival, so the middle aged woman glanced at the entrance with very little interest but focused once she saw who were the customers, or at least the one that mattered. She quit everything she was doing and about halfway to the entrance she started greeting Thorin with huge shows of exaggerated affection. 

"Oh darling, it's such a great pleasure seeing you around here! It's been too long since you last came for a visit, I never got to thank you for taking care of those boys, oh their poor mothers, you gave all of them such a great help! Aren't you a true pillar of this community? Isn't he?", she added looking at Thranduil. He chuckled and looked at his feet, which made Thorin ache with warmness.

"It's nice to see you too, Lobelia. I'm here to introduce you Thranduil Greenleaf, Elrond's nephew, Bilbo said it would be alright if he helped you, uhm, repair this place", said Thorin looking around. To quote a famous philosopher, there was really no hope for that filthy rat hole: the ceramic floor was old and cracked in some spots, the ceiling was disgustingly covered with mold stains and the tables seemed to be acquired in an auction of furniture found in the Titanic. And yet, Thranduil was already checking the place, and fuck Bilbo if he has right, he almost looked as if he was tracing a plan in his head. 

"Indeed I could use any kind of help, although Bilbo and his toilet mouth might not be so optimistic about it. Huh, so this is the famous nephew, Elrond could barely shut up about him!", commented Mrs Baggins. Thorin had to hold back a chuckle when he imagined her squeezing Elrond for information after the existence of Thranduil probably slipped accidentally in a conversation. "Where do you come from, son?"

"I'm from Washington but I've been living in New York for the past ten years or so", he said easily. 

_Fuck Bilbo in the ass._

"Oh! That explains the accent", exclaimed the lady. "And do you have any experience in saving diners from ruin?"

Thranduil chuckled and Thorin did too along with him. Gosh, what a gorgeous sound to hear.

"As a matter of fact I do, I'm an interiors designer and took two years of Architecture also, all this while part-time working at bars and coffee shops, so I would guess I'm pretty much qualified to fix this place", he explained without losing a single inch of that pearl white smile.

 _Fuck Bilbo in the ass with a spicy cactus_. How on Earth would he know any of that?

"Dear Lord, have you been sent from heaven?", Mrs Baggins cried hugging the young man, who was at least five inches taller than her and looked extremely awkward being hugged by the chubby woman. Thorin felt the sudden need to tell her to hold back and his face dropped at the thought. Well, well, well, who was running for America's Next Top Possessive Bastard?

"You truly are my saviour, young man, seven blessings for you!", she continued babbling. "Please remind me to thank Bilbo for being so considerate, and thank you, Thorin, darling, for being the knight in shiny armour you always are!", Lobelia added patting Thorin's cheek. Alright, he was getting annoyed and exponentially hungry by now. His stomach growled really loud, seconding his thoughts, letting only a tiny whisper at the back of his head worry about Thranduil might hearing the impertinence of his body functions.

"Mind if I order some lunch now, love?", he said eyeing at the menu and deciding that he would take whatever had enough matter to fill his belly. 

"Oh darling, my apologies, of course you're starving! So much work all the time never leaves you enough time to properly eat, come on, take a seat, I'll get you something quick", Lobelia said leading the men to a seat at the bottom of the diner, the usual table she reserved for important costumers, aka the non official table of the Sons.

"Darling, what can I get you?", she asked Thranduil. He locked his eyes on Thorin and smirked, a toned down version of the look he head given him earlier, and what he said surprised both the man and Mrs Baggins.

"I'll take whatever he's taking with any way of melted cheese you have"

"You got it, sweetheart", said Lobelia with a wide smile. "Thorin, I saw your bike out there so I can't give you a beer, house rules"

"I'll survive to a fresh lemonade . Want one too?", he asked Thranduil, but the young man was already smirking again. What came out of his mouth now was even a bigger surprise.

"I'll take a Guinness, thank you", he said, locking again his eyes on Thorin's. Lobelia nodded and vanished as fast as he could, somehow knowing her presence was not precisely required.

Thranduil did not speak again for a long moment, and neither did Thorin. Not that he didn't have anything to say, not at all, he actually was burning with anxiety for asking him questions, get to know him, discover the man behind the pagan god of beauty. But he just couldn't look away from that vision, the perfect features filled with easiness, his eyes sparkling like dark diamonds and the golden glow of his hair making him look ethereal and improbable.

Apparently amused by whatever he might be seeing in Thorin's face, when Thranduil finally spoke was to laugh out loud. Thorin found so adorable the way his eyes squinted when he laughed like that, that he got amazed of being able to hold it together. Instead, he returned the smile just as Lobelia appeared with a case full of plates.

"What is it?", Thorin demanded as soon as she left.

Thranduil grabbed a French fry covered with cheddar cheese and put it in his mouth slowly.

"Have you ever felt like life has a funny sense of humour?" he asked still chewing.

A drop of cheddar had dripped over Thranduil's shirt.

"You have no idea", Thorin agreed with a crooked smile.


	4. I've got a war in my mind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise surprise!  
> I'm so glad to be back, my friends. I've had it rough for the past few months, one of the things I suffered the most for was leaving this story behind but now that I'm back on my feet I'm thrilled to continue! Since the beggining this was one of the most challenging chapters to write, mostly because of what happens in later chapters but SPOILERS, so I trust you gorgeous readers be able to see it.  
> To all of those who patiently waited, you have the warmest coziest place in my heart. This is my delayed Christmas present for all of you ♡

"So, what's your story, kid?", Thorin asked as soon as his stomach was full enough to stop growling like a bastard, "I bet it's a good one".

"What do you mean?", Thranduil said, squinting his eyes with amusement. The older man couldn't help but smiling at him. He put aside the empty plates and leaned towards the young man, who immediately leaned back on his chair, just casually enough to make it look like it wasn't on purpose. Or at least that's what Thorin told himself to avoid getting his ego punched in the face. 

"You know, the young gorgeous designer and architect from New York ends up fixing old diners in Charming, California? It's gotta be a good one", he replied, once again melting at the slight blush that coloured Thranduil's cheeks. 

"It's not that good. And I'm not an architect, I'm just a lame designer", the boy said looking at his hands. His voice had dropped slightly, soundind appalled all of a sudden. _Are you seriously screwing it up already, Oakenshield?_

"According to whom?"

"My dad", Thranduil answered half laughing. Thorin noticed it was a forced laughter and suddenly remembered Elrond mentioning that the man was a dick. 

"Old men usually talk a whole load of bullshit. I know mine did"

"Name one", Thranduil demanded, and thank God, the spark of curiosity was there again glowing in those blue eyes. 

"Ah, let's see... Oh, I got one, my favourite, 'useless fag with a hero complex'"

"Oh", Thranduil said, his eyes now burning with... worry? _GODDAMMIT WHY CAN'T YOU DO ANYTHING GOOD, OAKENSHIELD_. "Alright, I might have to rethink my definition of douchebag", he immediately added with a crooked smile. Thorin would have felt honestly smitten by the smile if he hadn't seen that worry still lingering behind the curiosity.

"Meh, he wasn't so wrong after all. But I still want to hear that story", Thorin insisted. 

"I swear to God is not that interesting. Same old 'my dad payed a career I hated so I ended up alone at twenty in the Big Apple with nothing but my records and a can of paint and it got better until it didn't'", Thranduil said as if he was telling the weather report. Thorin was trying to figure out wether to hug him or ask him if he was serious. And then he realized.

"Wait. Twenty? Did this happen, like, yesterday?"

Thranduil's clear laughter made Thorin gasp. There was no way he would ever got used to that perfect sound.

"Exactly how old do you think I am, Thorin?", he asked.

Now he felt stupid. _Don't say seventeen don't say seventeen..._

"I don't know, but please say twenty one or more or I might report myself to the police for letting a minor drink"

The feeling of stupidity intensified a thousand times when the young man laughed again, covering his dashing smile with the back of his hand. _Ugh, cut it already._

"Man, I'll definitely start lying about my age", he said still shaking slightly due to the laughter. He then grabbed his beer and took a long sip, as a response itself. "I'm well into adulthood, you don't have to worry about underage drinking. I'll be twenty-eight in a few weeks, but I might as well start saying I'm twenty-three if you say I look like it"

The relieved sigh that escaped Thorin's lips could't go unnoticed, but he was more than able to take the embarrassment now that he could stop feeling guilty about liking a boy the age of his nephews. 

"Look like it? Both of my boys look older than you, and they're bloody teenagers"

"Your...?", Thranduil started, and then stopped midsentence to shake his head. "Thought they were your nephews?"

"Oh, my bad, I tend to forget I met you five minutes ago", Thorin apologized, "Yes, Philip and Kilian are my sister's, technically speaking. But Dis was young when she had them and let's say their father was better at dancing than at raising kids"

"I take he was good?", Thranduil innocently guessed.

"Worse dancer I've ever seen. And I've seen Bilbo Baggins dancing, that's saying something", Thorin said rolling his eyes, and then took a chance on Thranduil's amused expression. "What 'bout you? Got any other family? Any kids?"

Except that Thranduil's eyes grew darker again and his smile lost a few inches. Thorin sent himself to hell in five languages and without much thinking he grabbed Thranduil's cold hand in a quick motion that startled the young man. He didn't try to pull back, though. If anything, he slightly pressed Thorin calloused warm hand.

"I, uhm... sorry, I don't really like talking about my family", the blond man mumbled in embarrassment. Thorin was about to offer some encouraging words in the lines of 'we can spend what remains of the century exchanging stories about douchebag fathers' but suddenly Thranduil's face lit up slightly and curiosity, once more, was written all over his divine features.

"Your family sounds interesting though"

Thorin considered the posibility of pushing farther on the matter, but he decided that he could let it go for now. That tiny part of his gut that never failed to warn him when he was about to make something stupid started beeping loudly enough to not being ignored. He could tell a battle or two until Thranduil decided he could trust him with his own ones.

"Interesting is an understatement. Try with 'fucking nuthouse on wheels'. The lads are only the top of the iceberg, my sister is one of those chicks who think they're twenty forever even though their wrinkles and stretch marks tell a whole different story. Then there's my cousins, Dwalin and Glóin. Glóin's alright, recently divorced and flamant single father of a child of eight, but Dwalin still pretends he hasn't been retired from his porn star career for the past ten years and there he is, banging barely legal girls and drinking until he passes out. That bed you sleep in, in Elrond's attic?", Thorin waited until Thranduil nodded and snorted in response, "well I don't mean to disturb you but there's enough of Dwalin in there to repopulate the Earth".

Thorin was thrilled to hear the young man's deep voice crack into the most honest laugh he had heard of him so far. Let the show go on then.

"What about the others? I know Bilbo, not sure if I got to meet the others".

At the mention of his best-fuckhead-friend Thorin felt a homicidal impulse which he was proud to supress for the sake of conversation, because of course the son of a truck of whores would go checking out his quarter of a tiny posible chance of hypothetic crush. Of course he would.

"That would be Éomer and Faramir", he continued without a single sweat drop falling from his forehead.  
"Éomer is son to Théoden, former president of the MC, and brother to Éowyn, Faramir's wife. Believe it or not, they got married first and she then introduced Faramir to the MC. Quite a woman, this Éowyn, she makes the sweetest apple pie in the world and she can also crack your skull open if you dare to cross her", Thorin said with an affectionate smile on his face, "I always say that if I ever marry a woman, I bet she'll be a bit like her".

"If?", Thranduil quietly repeated the one syllable that seemed to catch his attention. Thorin cleared his throat.

"Yeah, well, remember how my old man wasn't so wrong about certain things? I had the misfortune of never getting serious enough with a lady to take her home and introduce her to him. So yeah, I was a full-time fag for him but I was closer to a part-time one back then", Thorin chuckled. It was amazing how time changed the way you remembered something. 

"What about now?", Thanduil said, his voice just a little lower and more intimate. The older man was about to make a funny reply, but he made the mistake of looking at those blue eyes.

He didn't know why, but he found that gloomy expectation way too familiar. A breath caught deep inside a fist-tight gut, your mind going through all of your moves so far under a new perspective. The most painful of doubts. Yes, of course he knew that look. All too well for his taste. 

He started tracing circles with his thumb on Thranduil's hand. He felt it warm now, and stared at the pale blue veins instead of the young man's face. 

"Full time bi, baby. There's a sort of freedom in never questioning if it's okay liking the person in front of you, only _if_ you like them. I guess you can never expect the other person to do or even think the same, but life gets easier once you fuck the rules and follow your gut", he stated, chuckling in the end. Only then he lifted his gaze to meet Thranduil's eyes, kind of afraid of finding the natural reaction to his values: total rejection. 

Instead, he found another look he was very familiar with, the kind of look everyone gave him everywhere he went. Admiration. Except, of course, it always came from regular mortals and never from a fallen-cheddar-lover angel. This was for sure a drug induced allucination.

"You're a clever man", Thranduil said in a low reverent voice. Thorin felt the slender fingers revolve under his touch, and before feeling the sting of the loss he realized the blond man had absentmindedly entangled his fingers with his. Their hands were at the same temperature now, and although he tried to hide the huge fucking smitten smile, he just couldn't. 

"Not quite, sweetheart. What about you? Do I get to ask or I'll get an evasive again?", Thorin ventured raising his right eyebrow. Now it was Thranduil's time to chuckle and lower his gaze. But he had his eyes firmly locked in Thorin's by the time he started talking.

"You could say I'm gay, I guess. Not once I found a woman who made me tremble with desire, although I did fuck a few just for fun. Well, it's not fun if you're not really into what you're fucking, but there was a time when I took everything I could without much questioning", he said in a rush, like it was an embarrasing revelation. Thorin wanted to assure him it was alright, that his own hippie sexual life didn't deminish not even slightly his experience, but he continued. And this time it was him caressing Thorin's hand. Electricity ran through him with every slow trail on his skin.  
"Men, though, I've always liked them, always fell for them. It's so much... real, you know? Without reproduction as a constant pulsion to love you, love is purest. I don't even have a type...", he hesitated in the end, and then added with a crooked smile, "or at least I thought I didn't have one until recently".

Man, if that wasn't the smoothest move ever.

"You do now?", Thorin asked, leaning forward. The young man didn't even try to move this time.

"Sort of definitely", he said in such a low voice it almost sounded like a purr, slowly raising their entwined hands near his face. Thorin shivered. _He didn't, didn't he?_ Nah, definitely not. Couldn't be. 

"Hope you find him soon", he said, playing the flirty wink card. When Thranduil blushed in response and pursed his lips in a small smile, he was convinced there was a God in heaven touching him with his magic wand. _Thorin "Smooth Bastard" Oakenshield, at your service._

"Do you? Have a type, I mean"

Thorin pondered the idea of telling him straight to his fair face how he didn't have precisely a type, but one current huge crush, but instead he tried to play another card. 

"I'll tell you, sweetheart, if you answer me three questions about you without evasives"

Thranduil considered the proposal as if his curiosity was really worth a painful twelve-hour interrogatory, and finally sighed and that holy crooked smile showed up again.

"Fine, I'll be as straight as possible"

"Alright, then! Let's go with an easy one. You said your birthday's soon. How soon?", Thorin demanded with an encouraging smile.

"December 13th", Thranduil answered, and his relief was so evident that Thorin reconsidered his mischievous plan for getting to know him. If his provacy was so important that the posibility of a question made him anxious, he could swallow his curiosity for whenever he was ready, if he ever was. Being the sad ass gentleman he was, he was absolutely able to grant him the control of the situation. 

"Didn't fancy spending Christmas inside the womb, huh?", he comented.

"Yeah, I was supposed to be born on January according to my mom", Thranduil said, more confident this time.

"You were meant to be an autumn child, you had no power over it"

"Well, I was a fetus", Thranduil said with a mocking expression. Thorin laughed out loud, his laughter husky and deep startling half of the costumers still present in the diner. He spent some good thirty seconds laughing before being able to speak. Thranduil hadn't stopped looking at him during his outburst, his face serene and almost happy. His eyes never looked entirely happy, though.

"Alright, I'm fine, sorry. Uhm...", Thorin looked around for inspiration only to end up looking at the cheddar stain on Thranduil's light blue T-shirt. "What's an... Iron & Wire? Is it a statement or it's your band or something?", he asked squinting his eyes. He hoped he had read it right.

Thranduil chuckled and let go of Thorin's hand to grab his shirt and straighten it. He had read it wrong, Jesus Bastard Fucking Christ.

"Iron & Wine, love. I wish it was my band, it's a friend's, actually. Sam is one of the greatest songwriters of this century, I'm telling you, and he happens to be one of my closest friends. He tours and retreats to compose music a lot though, which is why I never get to see him. I got this T-shirt at a show we played together in NYC last year so I could remember what it's like to be with him im the flesh, I guess", Thranduil explained. Thorin was thrilled to hear every detail that came out of his mouth, as if every letter was of vital importance. In a way, it was. 

"You sing?", Thorin asked right after realizing he might have wasted his third question.

"Uhm, I play more than sing, actually. I'm friends with many musicians who need a voice every once in a while but I sort of have stage fright so they never ask me to sing unless it's a life or death matter", Thranduil said, laughing at himself. "I can count with my hands the times I sang in public, and I was dying to be invisible all of those times".

"You and stage fright. I can't imagine such a thing, really", Thorin stated incredulous. _Although_ , he said to himself, _he does blush like a virgin at a compliment, so he might as well cut the phone line whenever he gets a call._

...which would also explain why it had taken him a week to text him. Damn, and he had thought a silly question about a T-shirt wouldn't be revealing. _Thorin one, the system none._

"No more questions?", Thranduil shyly asked after a few moments.

Thorin was about to take a chance with a question related to coffee shops, but the sun reflected on his watch and made him look at it. Shit, it was later than expected. He had arranged a meeting with Balin in twenty minutes.

"Fuck, I'd love to, but it looks like while we were out here having fun I was getting late to the workshop, I'm really sorry. Besides, a deal is a deal, right?", he apologized as he got up and left three ten dollar bills on the table. Thranduil followed him closely, his woody scent flowing in sweet dense waves around him as he put on his long sleeved plaid shirt and rolled up the sleeves. Did he really have to leave him now?

He was already climbing the bike when he noticed that Thranduil was hesitating on the sidewalk. He gave the young man a reassuring smile.

"Come, love, I'll give you a ride home", he said softly, and Thranduil's bright smile and his warm slender arms around his waist shot fireworks in his stomach. The roar of the bike masked perfectly the tiny joyful laughter that slipped past his lips.

All too soon he was parking at Elrond's, and Thranduil was loosening the grip of his arms. The sun was high and warm in the sky, but he suddenly felt cold. Empty.

"Thank you, this has been... really nice", Thranduil said. He was smiling at his feet, so Thorin placed a hand under his chin and gently coerced him to look at him. He seemed embarrassed.

"Anytime, sweetheart", he said sliding his thumb along Thranduil's soft jaw. A tiny sigh escaped the young man's lips, and his heart ached in response. "Alright, uhm, anything you need you know you can text me, or call me, or visit me at the workshop. You remember how to get there right?", he waited until Thranduil nodded and did the same, "if you don't find me, ask for Bilbo or any of the guys, they'll help you all the same".

"Got it"

"Alright", he said, tapping his fingers on the break. This was getting more and more uncomfortable by the hour, so he decided to retire with elegance before doing something stupid despite the very thought of leaving making his entire body ache. 

"Well... take care, sweetheart", Thorin said adjusting his helmet and pointing the bike towards the exit of the parking lot.

"You too", Thranduil said in a low voice, slowly turning and walking towards the bar. Thorin stared at his well toned back for a few seconds, and was about to hit the accelerator when he head Thranduil's voice again.

"Thorin, wait", he said urgently. Thorin immediately turned of the engine. "I- I'm sorry"

"For what, sweetheart?", Thorin asked in confusion. Thranduil crossed his arms and stared at his feet again.

"For pushing you away. It's better this way, trust me"

"It's alright love, it's not my intention pushing you in any way", Thorin replied with a small honest smile.  
"I know there's a reason and probably more than one for your secrecy, and I'm totally cool with it. I recognize the look of someone who had it rough, and it's written all over you. You can tell me everything about what's lead you here whenever you're ready, and only then. If you never reach that point, I can live with it too. If I want to ask every single detail about your life is because... well, you're at least worth the shot"

"Why?", Thranduil demanded with a worried frown. Ah, the million dollar question.

"Because I may not have a type either, but I like you, Thranduil. I'd like to know you, but I also know you need space and peace, and I'm more than able to wait by your side, it's worth the waiting".

"How can you be so sure?", Thranduil almost whispered, his face contorted with disbelief. Thorin had to take a grip of all of his strenght to avoid running to him and hold him.

"All beautiful things are worth my time, sweetheart", he finally said with his most honest smile. "I'll see you around", he added right before Thranduil could form a reply and wreck him again.

He took the long road again, using the punch of the wind and the scorching sun to clear his mind. He hadn't realized how much he was shaking until he had to focus on the highway, and his heart was pounding loudly enough to hear it over the engine. 

He was the biggest jerk in the world. The last thing that boy needed right now was a man ten years older than him creeping over his past. What the hell did he know about him? And why on earth he thought he had the right to know? He had met him a week ago, for Christ's sakes, and he had the nerve to declare he liked him? _You retarded dimwit, Oakenshield._

But in any case, the cards were already on the table. He could do nothing more than wait, except maybe drink to sleep or punch Bilbo. 

He took speed and returned to Charming. As soon as he crossed the gates he heard the band of brothers whistling at him, but he decided that they could fuck themselves with a burning shovel. Only when he passed like a thunderstorm in front of everyone without saying hi did they shut their mouths, and not one of them dared to ask. Thank God, because by then he wouldn't have stopped at Bilbo.

The Jack Daniels bottle nearly full over his nightstand was a blessing.


	5. We both know just what we’re here for

Thranduil felt a strange mix of numbness and absolute self-awareness once he stepped inside the bar. He was barely conscious of being climbing the stairs to the attic, but he felt the ghost of Thorin's touch in his jaw like a warm breeze, his musky leather scent all around him. As he retrieved a pack of handmade Turkish smokes from the jacket he was wearing when he left New York and tried really hard of not thinking where they came from, he tried even harder of getting rid of the rush of excitement he felt like electricity buzzing through his whole body.

He liked him. Thorin had just said he liked him. No tricks, no hesitation, just that pure open honesty the man showed in everything he did.

God, he felt dizzy. He approached the small window but the air wasn't enough, so he ended up on the roof. The cold wind was quite welcome for a while, but all too quick he felt cold and returned inside to get the shirt he was wearing earlier. Although, he thought, the chill had little to do with the weather and a lot with certain handsome biker.

Thranduil tried to find some sense in Thorin's statement but it made absolute no sense. Yes, he was a pretty lad, false modesty was bullshit, but was that really enough to shake a man like Thorin? Could a righteous man trust a pretty face above the truth he tried to hide?

"Ugh, can't do this", Thranduil said out loud. He wandered around the bar until he realized that, well, _he lived in a fucking bar_ , and although he wasn't supposed to, he poured himself a big glass of vodka. The burn of the drink wasn't enough to ignore the scent on him, but at least he wasn't cold anymore.

"Starting off early?", Elrond's joyful voice startled Thranduil, who was caught in the middle of taking off his shirt and T-shirt. He cursed out loud and then intended to return the vodka bottle to its correspondent shelf but the older man just chuckled.

"Chill kiddo, your old man isn't here and you can take all you want", he assured opening a can of beer for himself.

"Shouldn't even be drinking, I had a few beers not too long ago and I'm seriously trying to quit drinking", he replied, but then took another long sip. Elrond composed a curious expression.

"Had fun with Thorin, huh?"

Thorin almost choked and he turned furiously red at the implied question, which only made Elrond laugh harder.

"I'm not implying anything, just asking", he justified, yet Thranduil still wasn't buying it.

"It wasn't precisely fun. I was petrified half of the time and the other half I was trying not to... Ugh, nevermind", Thranduil held back just enough to cautiously compose a neutral mask.

"Ten bucks that you were about to say 'jump to his lap'", Elrond dared bumping his nephew's shoulder with the now empty can. The blond man froze.

"Aye, can't blame you, that man is some fine wine. I've known him since we were twelve and let me tell ya, he just gets better and better. Not just the looks, you know? That big ass heart of his is amazing, gives without asking, knows when you need anything, never judges. If I was half the man he is I'd be proud", the older man continued chuckling to himself, starting to place the chairs upside down and cleaning the tables. Thranduil still didn't know if he had a proper answer for that, so he quietly helped Elrond.

"I met Mrs. Baggins today, she wants me to help her fix her diner", he finally said when he placed the last chair standing. Elrond smiled widely and squeezed his lean shoulder.

"That's some great news, kiddo. Didn't I tell you? Always a step ahead, that Thorin", the older man replied.

"I'm about 80% sure it was his friend Bilbo who pulled the strings this time. Remember last Wednesday? I found it weird enough that he came alone, only now I find some sense in the things he asked me", Thranduil reflected out loud.

"And why would Bilbo care for anyone if it wasn't for Thorin? Especially if it involves Lobelia", Elrond replied.

"What do you mean?", Thranduil asked.

"Well, Bilbo can't stand Lobelia, he wouldn't even think of doing something remotely nice or her. So, why is he caring now for her diner? And why for a stranger like yourself? I'm not saying you are at all, but I've known Bilbo for a long time as well and he doesn't give half a fuck about anything unless Thorin has something to do with it. So there you go", the older man concluded with a satisfied grin.

Thranduil was speechless. And was his imagination or the leather scent had intensified while they spoke? The ghost of the goofy smile insisted on creeping over his features again. _For Christ's sakes, mate, hold it together._

"Anyway, you should call your father, he called while you were out and I told him you would call back. Don't keep him waiting long, aye?", his uncle said as his final comment and proceeded to open the bar. As the first costumers entered and Thranduil secretly felt relieved at them not being Sons, he quietly returned to the attic.

  
The vodka hadn't affected him not even slightly which was no surprise. If anything, he was even more aware of his surroundings. Great, he would have to call his father sober. _Fucking awesome._

With shaky hands he slid his fingers along the screen until he found the number. He hesitated just a moment before tapping the tiny phone button next to 'Oropher'.

  
_"Thranduil"_ , was the almost immediate and cold reply across the line.

"Hi", he greeted back, lowering his gaze as if the man was in front of him.

_"So you're alive after all_ ", the severe voice said, thick with despise.

"Well, none of us wanted to hear about each other, didn't we?", Thranduil replied, irritated at his father's tone. "Also I had nothing to report".

_"Do you now?"_ , Oropher demanded.

"I got a job today", he replied in a neutral tone.

_"A real job?"_

"It's a job, dad. That's all that matters"

There was a deep sigh across the line. Thranduil felt the need of having a punching bag nearby.

_"Fine. Do you have a place to stay yet?"_

"I'm still staying at Elrond's, I'll fix that as soon as I can"

_"Yes, I've heard that before_ ", the man ironically said, even having the nerve of laughing. None of them said anything for a while.

"How's-", Thranduil started, but he stopped midsentence and stared at his feet.

_"He's doing fine"_ , the man replied in a softer tone, knowing what his son didn't dare to ask. " _He started first grade. His teachers claim he's the brightest. Of course he is"._

Thranduil smiled at his feet, his vision suddenly blurry.

"A-and my sister?"

_"Tauriel is doing even better. She started practicing at my firm two weeks ago. She's just starting but I dare to say she'll become an associate long before she graduates"_ , Oropher exposed with pride. The younger man tried to not to take it personally.

"Would you tell them I called? Tell them I'm glad to know they're alright", he said fighting the fist tight lump in his throat.

" _I'll let Tauriel know you send your regards_ ", the man severely agreed. Right. " _Your things arrived this week, by the way, the landlord also decided that you can keep the deposit. I'll be sending them as soon as I have the time"_

"Alright. Thank you", was all Thranduil could say. Could he hang now?

_"I guess that's all. I'll be in touch"_

"Thank you. Bye, dad", Thranduil mumbled, eager to end the call.

_"Stay safe, son_ ", Oropher said, too embarrassed to really sound sincere, and the line went dead. The blond man stared at his phone as if it had rotten flesh and worms on it and he decided that he needed it as far away from him as possible.

Half an hour later he was fresh out of shower and wearing a clean T-shirt he retrieved from the bottom of his travel case. It took him a quick look in the mirror to vaguely notice how his almost transparent white T-shirt revealed a part of his tattoos right under the shorter sleeves and the deep V neck. It was the first time in many months he didn't feel guilty showing them. He smiled a little at his reflection and decided he could retrieve some more things from his case.

"Need a hand tonight?", he said cheerfully after he found Elrond cleaning the dirty glasses. The man seemed to notice and approve the slight changes. He nodded and composed a proud smile for him, giving him an apron.

Elrond was all that was alright in the world.

* * *

 

The weak light that filtered through the dusty windows of his room told Thorin that it was nearly sunset when he recovered from his alcohol induced passing out.

As he took a seat and his head didn't spin, only hurt like hell, he cursed. Jeez, he wasn't even hangover, what a fiasco. _Cirrhosis Olympics, here we go_.

It took him a shower and an excursion to the club's small kitchen to realize how quiet everything was. He was halfway through his burger when Bilbo and Dwalin showed up chatting joyfully but as soon as they noticed Thorin they went silent. The man raised his soda in their direction as greeting.

"I'll meet you at Elrond's", Dwalin said to Bilbo. He was out of sight in a blink. The shortest man remained ten feet away from Thorin twitching his nose. He walked around for a few seconds and then decidedly walked towards him. The burger had just been finished.

"Alright then. I have a certain idea of what happened so you can either tell me or you can go fuck yourself. Are we clear?"

"Crystal", Thorin mumbled.

"So? What happened?", Bilbo demanded.

"I said I liked him", Thorin confessed. Bilbo didn't seemed too impressed.

"And?"

"And? For fuck's sakes Bilbo, give me a break", Thorin grunted while he grabbed another soda from the fridge and leaned back on the bar.

"You've said worse things for far less little than this, I don't really see what's wrong in here", the shorter man continued. There was something about the calm in his voice that was veeery suspicious.

"What's wrong, fuckhead, is that whatever he came here to find it's not an affair!", Thorin yelled, making Bilbo jump in surprise. "The last thing he needs is an old guy trying to get under his pants while he tries to build a new life. He ran away from the Big Fucking Apple to this shit town, Bilbo, you don't do that unless you've had it terribly bad. He's not one of my Roxys, if that's what you're thinking. Which is why half of the things that happened today were totally off the line", he concluded with a long sip of soda.

"Which one was it, grinding in a dark alley or a quickie in the ladies room?"

Thorin choked and the soda slipped through his nostrils, making him cough and tear up. Bilbo remained unaffected by his friend's near passing.

"You bloody cunt", he spat as soon as he was able to speak.

"See? There are worse things than an accidental slip", Bilbo sentenced. "Truth is, mate, that you actually like this one, which is a pain in the ass because it turns you into the biggest pansy cake in the world. Also everything you do is so bloody charming and harmless, damn, he might even find it adorable"

"Could you stop applying synonyms of cute to me, for fuck's sakes?", Thorin interrupted in a low voice.

"All I'm saying is that saying sorry and start over can't be so hard. Just come to Elrond's and tell the guy you're an asshole and you're sorry. Aye? Can you do that?", the shorter man insisted.

Thorin was having a serious hard time figuring out Bilbo's secret agenda. And something he was just coming to his mind now was bugging him.

"You talked to him isn't it? Earlier this week?"

The man froze and stared at some point behind Thorin's head as if he was seriously considering the chance of evading the question.

"... ish", he finally said.

"And tell me again why you thought you had the fucking right?", Thorin grunted, his voice still low and threatening.

"I can do whatever the fuck I want, and I'm in my right to check if my best fucking friend isn't getting a case of blue balls over some airheaded teen, sue me", Bilbo fought back getting closer to Thorin. There were only a few inches between them, but the height difference made the whole scene way too hilarious to be taken seriously. Thorin bursted into laughter all of a sudden. Bilbo ended up joining him.

"You're a piece of work, Baggins. Meet you there at ten?"

"That's my fucker", Bilbo cheered squeezing his friend's shoulder.

"Can I borrow your tux?", Thorin yelled.

Bilbo turned around with his hand already on the door knob.

"You're shitting me"

Thorin was still laughing long after raised middle fingers were exchanged.

* * *

 

A little over five minutes after ten the Sons' president was stepping into Elrond's and heading straight to their usual table. He was gladly surprised to find all of them there, Glóin, Nori, even Balin had a beer in hand. Their loud cheering was contagious, and soon the whole bar was toasting for them.

"I wouldn't want to bring this to the table right now, son", the older man said only for Thorin to hear, "but what are we doing about this Dragon of yours?"

"I got it covered. I'll arrange a meeting for tomorrow, can you be there?"

"I'll make sure of that. Dwalin and Bilbo should be there too, and Fili", Balin suggested.

"Fili? Why would you want him there?", Thorin asked, close enough to shock.

"Have you heard the lad arguing terms? He's a gem. Also, if I know you a bit, which I do, you've been thinking a lot lately about it", the old man pushed with an accomplice smile.

"I have no idea what you're talking about", Thorin said, but the same smile spread over his face. And just when he was pressing the beer bottle over his lips, a golden glow caught his sight not ten feet away from him. The smile faded instantly.

"Be right back", he urgently said towards Balin, stumbling with half of his brothers in his race to catch the young man.

"Thranduil", he called once he was close enough. The slender young man stood still with the tray balancing on his perfect fingers and turned around slowly. And that was it, that was the moment when Thorin was ready to meet the Reaper.

Thranduil, was wearing a T-shirt much tighter than the ones he had previously seen him wearing, and every little shape of his body showed through the thin fabric. He was not sure how he hadn't noticed all the tattoos before but now that he did he had the sudden urge to touch every single one of them, especially the elk antlers right under his collar bone. But it was his face what stunned him the most. He was fucking glowing. He had a tiny silver labret and a nose piercing. Oh, and did he mention _the goddamn black eyeliner?_ He was a daydream dressed as a teen train wreck, and he fucking _loved_ it.

"Hi", Thranduil said in a small voice, a tiny smile on his lips.

"Hello, sweetheart", Thorin almost purred. "Rocking some new style, huh?"

"Old one, actually. Can't believe the piercings didn't heal after so long", he said touching the labret and his lip along with it. Thorin chose to ignore the fact that he had talked casually about his past without much pressure. _Take note, fuckhead._

"I love it", he said with a wide smile, but almost immediately turned serious again.

"I, uhm, about today-", Thranduil started, but Thorin raised his hand and stopped.

"Please, let me go first. I'm sorry, I'm an idiot, alright? I meant every word but it wasn't until I gave a second thought to it that I realized just how desperate and ridiculous I sounded. I do like you, but you need your space right now and I intend to respect that as long as you need it. I mean it, alright sweetheart?", Thorin ended with a deep sigh and staring at the floor. He then felt Thranduil's cold fingers wrap gently around his wrist and drag him to an empty corner of the bar. _Holy Jesus, why is he staring me as if it was Christmas and I drove over a puppy at the same time?_

"No need to apologize, Thorin, god, if someone needs to apologize is me", he started, embarrassment making his voice shaky and high.  
"You've been nothing but charming and kind to me so far and... well, I've been quite obvious about it, I really like you too. It's just that my previous relationships have been... turbulent, to say the least. In the end men just want one thing and I'm not... interested in that kind of relationship. I need you to know this, alright? It's not that I don't want to know you, or I don't want you to know me, I just want to avoid another fling where everything's just the prelude to getting into my pants, because it's not going to happen. Like, ever. I can understand if that isn't what you want, I really do"

Thorin's chest felt so tight it hurt. He had been the asshole and it was Thranduil who was apologizing for wanting to take things slowly? He deserved to be shot and thrown to the river. He was about to elaborate a reassuring reply to the young man's statement, but then he noticed a tiny bit that almost slipped past his understanding.

"When you say that it's never going to happen...", he mumbled.

Thranduil took a deep breath and smiled as if he felt guilty.

"I'm saying that I'm not interested in having sex. Truth is... I'm, huh, asexual", Thranduil spat with a deep concerned frown darkening his perfect features. Thorin was just able to give him a reassuring smile and squeeze his hand lightly.

"Do you see me going anywhere?", he said as calmly as he could.

_Aaaand now comes the part where you don't let him see how fucked you are._

Because he was.

Seriously. Entirely. _Fucked_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank god it didn't take me another six months to return, I was getting worried. Long short story I lost my phone two weeks ago with the final draft and I had to start over ^^"  
> A tiny little thing I didn't have the chance to clarify earlier. The reason why this is the first chapter where we learn that Thranduil has tattoos is because they are not quite visible, and I tried to emphasize that the clothes he had used previously were loose and covered most of them. His forearms are clean, though, so no Barbie Ex Machina there, but try to imagine the Chapter One T-shirt with 3/4 sleeves and him wearing a shirt in Chapter Four, which I fixed. Sorry for neglecting this detail.  
> I'm happy I finally got over this first chapters, because now the real plot begins! I hope you like the path I planned for this story, but of course any suggestion you have I'm open to it, and thank you once more for sticking with me!


	6. Everybody wants to go fast, but they can't compare

“How longer will this guy take, uncle? I’m getting mental in this sun”, Fili complained adjusting his sunglasses.

“I’m about 89% sure I can make a fried egg on my head at this point”, Dwalin agreed. Bilbo wasn’t even complaining anymore, he had laid under a tree with little shade and was napping in a pool of his own sweat and probably dying out of a sun stroke.

“Give me a break you bunch of Fabios, the meeting was at three”, Thorin grunted in response, although he wanted nothing more than listen to his brothers and get the hell out of there. If it wasn’t for the sweet promise of ridiculous amounts of cash in his pockets in no time he wouldn’t have even considered attending a meeting in the middle of nowhere under the scorching afternoon sun, but then again he had set the meeting point so in any case he was to blame.

As the clock marked the minutes way beyond three, Thorin gave up and approached the only tree that threw some decent shade on them. Balin had been there since their arrival, calmly smoking his pipe.

“I’ve been thinking why you could possibly need an extra income since yesterday morning and I can’t put my finger on it”, Balin murmured staring thoroughly at Thorin. The younger man stared at his shoes.

“All you need to know is that I have a good reason”, he replied, hoping the old man didn’t notice how desperately he was trying to avoid questions.

“I’ve been noticing how you haven’t been home for the past two weeks, you know”, Balin continued. Thorin jumped in response.

“I’ve been home”, he said almost too quick. Balin chuckled as he exhaled a thin cloud of smoke.

“Passing by to wash your clothes doesn’t count as going home, lad. Yes, I’ve been asking my questions, don’t give him hell”, he quickly added when Thorin glanced at his nephew as if he intended to strangle him.

“It’s not their fucking business, Balin, don’t get them in the middle of my shit”, Thorin grunted as he faced the little old man.

“It’s been their business since none of them asked you to leave your own house in the first place, Thorin”, Balin said just a little louder. Crap, the man could really get under his skin fast.

He was about to apologize when his phone rang with an annoying beep in his front pocket. His smile was instant and huge. Balin chuckled.

“If I hear that thing ring one more time today, I’ll make you lads get married tomorrow morning”, he said tenderly. At Thorin’s sudden blush, he patted the younger man’s shoulder in a quite fatherly fashion.

Thorin was still smiling when he checked his phone. It was a text message.

(15:13) **so how was the meeting? :)**

That gorgeous little shit. He had been texting him since around 10 am, his first text actually waking up Thorin. Yes, he was awfully hangover, but at least he had been in an excellent mood all day.

(15:13) **No show yet. How was your… er, whatever you’ve been doing all morning?**

(15:14) **fun! and not remotely done yet. u gonna love it tho**

(15:14) **I trust you. And by the way there’s no need to be so secretive, I kinda figured out by now what you’re doing**

He had actually no fucking idea what a late teenager could be doing in a Sunday afternoon, but hey, a man could try.

(15:15) **nay, u have no clue ;)**

Thorin laughed so loud that he caught Dwalin’s attention, so he stepped away towards the road and glanced around looking for his guest’s transport. _Negative, Houston._

His phone rang again, this time the ear-crashing AC/DC tune breaking the peace in the meadow. He heard Fili grunting just before picking up.

 _“Tired of me already?”_ , the soft purring voice of Thranduil said across the line.

“Try harder and I might”, Thorin replied still eyeing the road, but with a big ass smile on his face. “So? What’s the big deal?”

_“It wouldn't be a surprise if I told you”_

“Oh, he likes surprises now!”

_“I can literally hear you taking mental note of it. See, you're laughing, gotcha!”_

_You bloody lovely beast._

_“What are you doing up there? Are you staying hydrated?”_

“Er, I had a Corona earlier, it counts?”

 _“Thorin, you emptied Elrond’s cabinet of Jack last night, go grab some water right now”_ , Thranduil sounded falsely worried. Or wasn't it?

“Remember the part where I’m in the middle of nowhere, babe?”, Thorin reminded. The young man chuckled across the line. God, could he miss someone he had seen only hours ago even with his voice so near?

“Hey, about last night-”

 _“I’m sorry about it, I didn't mean to spill it that way_ ”, Thranduil rushed to assure, but Thorin was already shaking his head in amusement.

“Why you always assume I’m mad at you? I was going to say I’m glad that you told me, you saved us many awkward moments”

 _“I see”_ , Thranduil said just a little lower. Oh crap, what the fuck had he said now?

“Not that I- you know, it wouldn’t cross my mind trying to get on with you without you being expressly okay with it, I’m not that kind of person. I’m still just a man but, you know, we’ll work it out”, Thorin said, trying to not let show how he convinced himself of his own words, how he had been telling himself the same words for the past hours.

A low affectionate chuckle crossed the line like a caress in Thorin’s ear.

“What?”, he demanded.

“ _The way you say us and we, I think I like it a little too much_ ”

_DING, DING, DING, WE HAVE A WINNER._

Thorin was about to reply how much he loved it himself, but the far sound of an engine cut his train of thought. The rest of the gathered men turned their heads at once, even the sleeping Bilbo who looked all of a sudden ready to beat the shit out of someone if needed. Thorin chuckled to himself. Bring anyone who dares interrupting this asshole’s nap.

Crap, he hated the idea of hanging the phone now.

“Hey, gotta go sweetheart. Looks like my man is here. I’ll call you when I’m done with this, alright?”, he said trying not to sound too dismissive. Yet he felt like total shit.

 _“Go love, behave yourself aye?”_ , Thranduil said in a fake British accent. Thorin chuckled.

“Please, I’m a fucking angel”

_“I thought you were a son?”_

“Was that an MC joke?”

_“Did it make you laugh?”_

“Fuck off!”, Thorin said, and finally hung the phone. The vehicle was nearer now.

A silver SUV stopped a few meters away from them in a swift motion. Thorin tried to identify the driver but the sun hit him straight in the eye in that angle. A sudden fear struck him as he saw the two bulkiest bodyguards he had ever seen get down of the car, but then he felt relieved of seeing the slender man he had met at Elrond’s climbing down after them. But man, he didn’t remember the guy being so… intimidating. Yes, that was the word.

He was taller than Dwalin, who was the tallest of them, and although he was lean in appearance he was, too, broader than Dwalin. His perfectly done hair had a shiny red shade under the sunlight, not a single strand falling out of place nor covering a single inch of his long, alien-ish features. No, not like an alien, more like a reptile. The word dragon stuck in Thorin’s mind like a chant, unable to  unsee the resemblance from now on, and especially as he approached with a wide, too white and sharp smile, and those weird golden eyes shining.

Dude, what a creepy guy. And yet, there was an undeniable beauty all along him, the kind that got one night stands with supermodels and trophy wives with a finger snap. His mind flashed the image of Thranduil for some reason.

“Mr. Oakenshield, glad to see you again”, he greeted with a deep, hypnotic voice. Thorin’s brothers gathered instantly behind him as if they could hide from the six-foot man, all but Bilbo, who even stood a few feet ahead Thorin and stared at their guest directly in the eye. He must be seriously mad about his nap, Thorin thought.

“Here we go”, Bilbo murmured, twitching his nose.

He had to curse himself then. Call me a superstitious, but that fucking hobbit’s nose was some kind of compass for trouble and when it twitched, it didn’t for nothing.

Thorin prayed that the compass failed this time, but those sharp white teeth didn’t stop creeping him out.

* * *

“But, like, he can get hard?”

Thorin grunted when the question startled him enough to drop the wrench.

“I told you to shut up like fifteen times so far, fucktwad”

“I’m serious here mate, what happens if he gets up with a morning wood? Think of the Dalai Lama until it disappears?”, Bilbo asked approaching Thorin’s bike. He received a cloth completely stained with motor oil right under his nose and a lot of lower key swearing.

“Thorin, I’m asking a serious question here if you don’t mind”, Bilbo insisted again, only to suddenly find himself with his feet dangling in the air because Thorin had grabbed him by the hem of his vest and was now pinning him against the wall.

“Listen to me, you fucking moron. You will shut up this issue or I will cut you. Are we clear?”, he hissed under his breath, receiving a vigorous nod from the shorter man and a raspy chuckle right after letting him go.

“I thought he wasn’t one of your Roxy's”, Bilbo reminded.

“Which is exactly why you have absolutely no right to talk about his choices”

“I wasn’t questioning his choice of not getting-! You know what, nevermind, whatever, not of my business”, Bilbo gave up shaking his head.

“Thank you”

“But take note on this, you turn into a big fucking mess when you don’t fuck someone. Remember that the next time you try to corner me over a dick joke, shithead”, the shorter man added leaving the garage, his middle finger raised above his head until he was out of sight.

Jeez, what a pain in the ass. And now he had a headache, fucking awesome.

As Thorin approached the minibar and picked a bottle of water over a beer (because fuck you, Thranduil), he couldn’t stop going round the bush about his best friend’s words and how he was seriously worried about the chance of not getting laid, like, ever. Man, his last fuck had been two weeks ago and he was already scratching the walls. But he never called that girl again and two weeks ago he didn’t know Thranduil, and he had to recognize he was already falling for him so even the thought of being with someone else disturbed him. But what else was he supposed to do?

“For fuck’s sakes!”, he grunted out loud turning around to return working on his bike, but the motion was too brute and he crashed against the chair where he had left his phone and his vest, and that’s how both things ended up on the floor.

Swearing really loud now he picked up the phone and silently thanked God when he saw it was unharmed. But right after checking the screen he _saw_ the screen and he realized it had been at least four hours since he had promised calling Thranduil and he started swearing again.

The call was answered after only two tones.

 _“Hello stranger”_ , he purred. Thorin didn’t know why, but he sighed in relief.

“Hey”, he said in response. Damn, he sounded pathetic.

_“Is everything alright? You sound like you’ve been hit by a truck”_

“Nah, I’m good. It was a long day and Bilbo is a literal piece of shit, just any other day in the garage”

_“You know what you need? A big hug, a greasy cheap burrito and a cup of coffee”_

Thorin smiled at the image.

“Sounds like a plan to me”

_“Well, I can offer the latter, do you know of a cheap Mexican restaurant around here?”_

“A few, actually, we’re in California remember?”

Thranduil laughed, making Thorin’s chest grow warmer in response.

_“Right. Text me the place and time and I’ll be there”_

“No fucking way. Want me to pick you up in, say, thirty minutes?”

 _“Damn right, I’m starving_ ”, Thranduil agreed. Thorin couldn’t help but imagining a huge grin in his angelical face.

“Alright then. See you soon, sweetheart”

 _“Can’t wait, love”_ , Thranduil purred again, and he was the one to hang this time.

 _Fuck you, fuck you very very much, Bilbo_ , Thorin thought as he headed for a shower and a clean shirt.

Yeah, it had been two weeks since his last fuck, but it had been a lifetime since his last evening burrito with an angel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey people! Big chapter right here, it took me a while and I'm reaaaaally sorry, no devices excuses here, just sheer procrastination because I couldn't decide the way of introducing the Dragon properly, I think I like the way it ended up.  
> Little details here and there, I introduced a glipse of Thorin's troubles, a tiny bit more about Thranduil and a shit ton of fluff, just as I promised earlier. Hope you guys liked this chapter, I already have the first half of the next one so it won't take me long!


	7. Heaven is a place on Earth with you

“Only seventeen seconds late, I’m impressed”, Thranduil greeted his date showing the timer in his phone screen paused in thirty minutes and seventeen seconds.

“And now he counts the minutes!”, Thorin yelled faking indignation in his direction. The young man smiled mischievously. He approached the bike with a pace so confident it took Thorin's breath away, the eyeliner still smudging his dreamy blue eyes, tons of skin showing under the ragged grey tank top, and for the first time, his hair loose on his back.

Cold fingers wrapped gently around Thorin’s big hand still holding on to the brake. The biker slowly let go and entwined his fingers with Thranduil’s. A tiny intimate smile showed in the blond man's thin lips.

“Hey”, he whispered.

“Hey”, Thorin mumbled back. 

“Missed me?”

Thorin chuckled as he tugged the young man's hand and pulled him closer, inviting him. He seemed to understand for he climbed the bike immediately, holding him tight. As if he had asked for it out loud, Thranduil slid one of his hands across his chest and pressed his cheek to his shoulder. 

“You have no idea”, Thorin said low, almost to himself, unable to hide a huge goofy grin.

The Harley came back to life and made a U-turn, heading straight to the main street. Thorin noticed many eyes on him but he couldn’t give a single flying fuck about it. He parked a few blocks away from the police station and offered a hand to Thranduil. 

He raised a perfect pierced eyebrow in his direction.

“Fuck off, Prince Charming”, he spat climbing down with pride and holding a steady look on Thorin, whose laugh filled the wide avenue and attracted, if possible, more stares.

“This way”, he indicated. He eyed Thranduil's hand first but then he changed his mind and put his hands safely in his jeans’ front pockets.

_ Well done, Prince Charming! _

‘La Rana Chillona’ was a tiny shop going round the corner. It was attended by its owner, a chubby Mexican illegal who depended on keeping the cops happy if he didn't want to get his ass kicked over and out of the border. As a result, the shop was every cop's dream and Thorin's personal food shop in the whole town. 

“How you doin’ ese?”, he said as soon as he saw Thorin entering the small grab-and-go store. The men greeted each other with a fist bump and a hug. The small man kept his eyes wide and open staring at Thranduil the whole time, though.

“Starving, Fernando, thanks for asking”, Thorin said not entirely sure if the blunt edge in his voice was actual hunger or just the animal instinct of tearing the man’s throat open with his teeth for staring at Thranduil that way. He decided to vouch for hunger if he didn't ask questions.

“The usual, then?”, Fernando said with a wide smile, and then addressed Thranduil, “and for the pretty boy?”

The sudden grunt was inevitable, but Thranduil seemed amused.

“The pretty boy wants whatever brings BBQ sauce and tons of jalapeño, do you have something like that?”

“Sure thing, rosebud”, he said winking an eye. “I think I like your new boyfriend, ese”, he added bumping Thorin’s shoulder, and then disappeared in the kitchen. 

“I know you're thinking about killing our good friend Fernando, but if that's the smell of my food and I don’t have it in my belly in the next thirty minutes I’ll get your guts spread in the floor first, aye love?”, the young man whispered in Thorin's ear after five minutes of him actually considering committing first degree murder.

The chuckle that emerged from the biker’s dry throat broke the spell, and a few moments later Fernando was handing them a paper bag with their order. But the laughter died in his throat as soon as he noticed the tiny Mexican man staring at them as if it was the greatest joke in the universe. Jesus, was he staring at Thranduil’s ass? Thorin was sure the crease in his brow could make a dignified rival for the Grand Cannon.

That was until he felt a soft cold hand fondling his cheek.

“Easy, rider, you’ll get a stroke”, Thranduil mumbled quite tenderly. His brow softened just a little. 

“I don't like people staring at you that way, that's all”

“Like what?”, the young man demanded, confusion written in his eyes.

“Like you’re some kind of… ugh, nevermind. I’m sorry, I’m tired and hungry, I imagine things”

Thranduil's smile was patient, understanding.

“Hey”, he whispered framing Thorin's face, forcing him to stare at him. “People looked at me like as if I was an expensive whore before, and they’ll keep doing it. I don't give a single flying fuck, okay? You don't have to worry about me. I’m alright”, he reassured with a tiny squeeze around his neck before letting go. 

Thorin sighed. 

“Alright then”, he agreed as he climbed the bike and waited for the warm arms around him. Man, those slim limbs were so soothing, like an anchor to sanity. The smile struck him like a hurracaine.

“Where to, sweetheart?”

He had not expected a chuckle.

“Home”, Thranduil said, his voice so excited all of a sudden. 

“Elrond's then?” 

“Sackville’s”, he corrected with a huge grin even visible from his peripheral vision.

And although Thorin had no idea why that shithole could remotely mean home, he hit the pedal and headed there with the firm grip of the young beauty around his chest, who could probably feel how fast his heart was beating.

On a side note? He was not in the most minimal ashamed of feeling like an eloping teenager.

“Park at the bottom of the parking lot”, Thranduil asked when they arrived the old diner, already closed. Thorin obeyed without a question, eyeing around. The place seemed even more abandoned after dark, the kind of abandonment that makes you wonder if leaving your bike there is an option. 

But then again, who would be stupid enough to assault the Biker King himself, huh?

“This way”, the young man called him starting to climb a set of stairs he had never seen. He once again followed him without a question, even though he was dying to ask. Thranduil opened the door at the top with a key he held in a chain hanging from his neck, and they entered into a dark room.

The weak light of a lamp in the floor lightened the room when Thranduil turned it on. His proud smile was even more precious in that light. 

“May I introduce you my humble home?”, he said.

Well, to say the complete truth humble was an understatement. The room, although huge enough to conform a vast apartment, was just as much of a piece of shit as the diner itself. Parts of the roof paint were hanging in shreds, one of the walls wasn't even finished and what was intended to be a parquet floor was just a five feet long unfinished square in a corner. And if that awkward inconvenient square across the stance was the bathroom, he could start worrying now for the young man's hygiene. And yet, Thranduil had somehow managed to make it look like an actual habitable space.

The lamp stood by a wooden platform with a thin two-body mattress covered by a crimson old sheet and a patchwork blanket. Four recently painted wooden fruit crates made a decent cabinet where Thranduil had left his few belongings, which included a Polaroid camera, a drip coffee maker, an iPod speaker and a guitar case laid casually on a side. 

Thorin walked around unable to stop smiling, with the young man silently following him. He could totally imagine the blond beauty living there. 

“Lobelia called this morning saying that after checking her bank account she realized she couldn't afford paying me and the restoration, but she ‘had heard’ that I needed a place to stay so she offered me this apartment as payment”, Thranduil explained making the quotation marks gesture as he spoke. They both laughed at the implied gossip scheme made by Bilbo’s cousin.

“Please tell me that mattress isn't the one at Elrond's”, Thorin said pointing at the messy corner.

“God, no! I wasn't able to sleep there without a plastic bag on it since you told me the Dwalin bit, ugh”, he replied making a disgust face that made the older man's heart contort with warmth. “No, all of this came from Lobelia’s garage. She said I could grab whatever I needed but my dad called earlier today saying that the things of my previous apartment were on its way so I only accepted the mattress and a can of paint, the rest was in the dumpster, can you believe it?”

“As a consummate mechanic I can’t judge you for searching for parts in a dumpster”, Thorin reflected out loud following Thranduil with his peripheral vision. He had taken off his shoes and was now sitting cross-legged in the centre of the improvised bed arranging the food. Man, he had totally forgotten about the food. He was turned into a spellbound idiot, wasn't he?

But then again, he thought, when angels look like him you forget so easily you're still attached to earth.

_ Yeah, shut up and eat, you Shakespeare motherfucker. _

“Kun fu ftand burrbfo umd cuffee or you ffffer”, he paused to swallow, “having it later?”, Thranduil struggled with words as his mouth was already full of his extra spicy burrito. The whole scene was just too adorable, and as if it was his trademark, some sauce had dripped over his tank top. A big drop of BBQ sauce was still staining the side of the young man's constant pout. Thorin leaned forward with a napkin, but he made the mistake of glancing at those maddening blue eyes and he dropped it, removing the sauce with his thumb instead. He should have known from staring at the shiny irises that Thranduil was up to something, because he caught the thumb with his mouth before Thorin had even the time to consider the intention. _And now, you dickhead, don't you dare thinking of your finger in his mouth. DON'T. YOU. DARE._

“Quick advice, Oakenshield, don't you ever mess with my spice. Are we clear?”, he purred still licking the thumb clean. Thorin’s smile froze at the sight of that pink slippery tongue wrapped around his finger. Fucking shit, that was so not fair.

“Over my scout honor, sweetheart“, he mumbled when his thumb was finally released. The relieved sigh was inevitable, he only hoped Thranduil didn't notice it much.

“I’ll have that coffee, by the way”, he added focusing on his burrito for now. 

“I knew you were my kind”, Thranduil replied bumping his shoulder. Thorin chuckled and lowered his gaze at his burrito again. As Thranduil filled the machine with water in the bathroom he searched the food bag and found some courtesy nachos and Fernando's homemade guacamole. _Bless you, ese._

“Go ahead, you can ask how a person runs away and still has the time to pack a coffee machine”, Thranduil mocked as he let the machine do its magic and faced Thorin again, cross-legged and easy, the episode of the thumb in his mouth forgotten. _That's how it worked?_ Thorin thought.

“Well, you packed a guitar and a shit ton of piercings as well, some things are always priorities, I guess?”, Thorin replied with a tired smile. _Man, just let it go, he didn't mean to give you a hard on, he’s just playing._

“Come here”, Thranduil asked in a low, soothing voice, leaning against the wall. His toned arms were wide open in a clear invitation. Thorin crawled into those fine arms without much hesitation, but deep inside he feared what might happen if he got any closer to him.

But, oh seven hells, didn't it feel like the safest place on Earth.

He had leaned on Thranduil, his back pressing against the incredibly broad chest. He had not realized how big the young man actually was, but then again he had not been this close before. He sank in the embrace with an easiness he was far from feeling, but that arm over his chest and the one on his waist felt a lot like sanity. 

“I had promised you a hug, hadn't I?”, he reminded in Thorin's ear. 

“You had”, he agreed, shifting even closer. The soft grip on him grew tighter, too. Jeez, that felt almost too good. 

“Want to tell me about your best friend being an asshole?”, Thranduil suggested. Only then Thorin remembered the reason for his awful mood, and he couldn't help the dark laughter that slipped past his lips.

“I don't really want to talk about the asshole right now, what he said… forget it, he's a jerk”

“It was about me, right?”, Thranduil guessed without hesitation.

“It doesn't matter”, Thorin stubbornly insisted.

And to his surprise the blond man laughed, making Thorin's back tingle with the vibration of his deep voice.

“He worries about his best friend falling for someone who won't fuck him, I expect no less to be honest”

“But he- he’s an idiot, you know that right?”, Thorin rushed to say, turning to face the young man. He seemed so calm, how could he? “I’m okay with it and you know that, I don't give a shit about whatever he has to say”

“But you do”, Thranduil corrected, his voice as calm as his features.

“I don't”, Thorin reassured.

“Maybe not about him saying it, but what he is saying. Or you're going to tell me you haven't been going mad about that thing I did with the sauce for the past ten minutes?”, the young man defied with a raised eyebrow. Thorin was speechless.

“I…”

“Hey, it’s alright, I knew I was stepping over the line here, I’m sorry for that”, Thranduil said with a little crooked smile, slowly raising his hand to brush his knuckles against Thorin’s bearded cheek. His heart jumped out of his chest when he saw that, for the briefest of moments, he was staring at his parted lips.

The coffee machine beeped. _You goddamn fucking bastard,_ Thorin grunted internally.

As Thranduil crawled towards the machine and filled two mugs with the hot dark liquid, Thorin took some time to recompose and convince himself about the tightness in his jeans was due to all the food he had eaten and not due to his southern friend.

But all too soon Thranduil was again close to him, handing him a mug and leaning against the wall in his inviting posture. Why the hell was so easy falling into his arms again, drinking in his warm forest scent, like going home after a long day at work? He drank in silence, disturbed by the tide of emotions crashing through his heart. 

“I know how hard this is for you. No pun intended”, Thranduil said chuckling. But then he took a deep breath and a slight tremor ran through his body.

“Look, it’s not that I’ll never ever have sex with you, I actually find you way too fucking attractive to forget how repulsed I am by the idea of having sex. It’s just that… when I was young I had too much sex with girls I didn’t like at all, and when I finally started to fuck guys they either treated me like a fragile little thing or worse, like if I was some girl who liked it rough because in the end I still had a dick. It was denigrating and exhausting and I got so tired of it that in the end I lost all interest in having sex at all. It’s easier telling people that they’ll never get a shot with me than explaining it, you know?”

“Then why-”, Thorin started, but was cut by the swift motion of Thranduil’s cold hand reaching for the now half empty mug and leaving it in the floor. He crawled until he was face to face with Thorin, their faces so close he could feel the sparks between them. Thranduil’s lips were slightly parted, like if he needed more air, and his big blue eyes were darkened. He framed his face with both hands, one cold, one warm. The cold one softly descended through the side of his neck.

His hesitation lasted only the second he took to look into Thorin’s eyes one more time.

And then their lips were joined.

Holy Mary, it had been so long since he had kissed someone. And weren’t those lips the softest sweetest thing he had ever tasted before? Thranduil didn’t dared to be too demanding, although Thorin could feel he was holding back. He brushed his lips gently against Thorin’s, pressing one more tiny kiss before pulling back. The determined, wrecked look in Thranduil’s eyes told Thorin this had been a statement. Even more, a promise.

“I barely know you, and you barely know me. But I trust you and I feel safe when I’m with you. You have been the best thing that happened to me lately, and I know it’s too soon and I’m a mess but I just… I like you Thorin, and even though I might not be what you want I think you are worth the shot. We are worth the shot. Let me try being what you need”

Thorin felt completely disarmed. There he was, a late teenager who had only told him his name and his favourite band, all flustered with his red lips, his watery eyes and his arousing scent, believing he wasn’t enough for him. A disgraced angel who had no more sins than a dark past he was eager to forget. How could he not be enough when his whole being felt so much like home?

“All I need, baby, I have it in my arms right now”, he replied in a low purr, unable to speak in his own voice. Thranduil smiled, and leaned closer for another kiss. 

They ended up tangled together in the mattress, kissing each other thoroughly, gently, tugging playfully at each other’s lips, chuckling when they ran out of air. The coffee was already cold when they remembered it was still there, but they laughed and took it anyway, unable to speak a word. Not yet.

And when they turned off the lamp and Thranduil pressed his chest over Thorin’s back falling asleep too quick, the biker remained a moment longer awake, his mind going a thousand places at once. Bilbo’s worries, Balin’s, the Dragon. The beauty softly snoring on the curve of his neck.

_Who the fuck cares_ , he thought. His troubles would be there in the morning, right now all he wanted to do was lay down in that fairyland of first kisses and late night coffee.

Scarce were the moments in heaven for a man who ruled hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jeez, I still have shivers after writing this, it's so fluffy and warm! I don't have much to add, I only hope that you like it and I apologize if once again it took me too long, I suck at romance sometimes and this needed perfection. Hugs and kisses for all of you!


	8. Every waking moment I feel so unfulfilled

Thranduil felt uneasy once he realized that he was still set to wake up at 8 am sharp without an alarm and without any external encouragement other than a sense of obedience. _Old habits die hard, pal._

While the moon was still high in the sky he could believe that life could be easy and beautiful, as simple as holding gorgeous men in your arms until you fell asleep and wake up to warm coffee and lazy smiles. But as he rolled on his side and watched the sun rushedly bathe the apartment with its warm glow, that crippling anxiety he had felt ever since he stepped out of his door in New York returned with the strength of a hundred hurricanes, turning his low-key uneasiness in blunt discomfort.  

He relaxed a little when he looked around and checked he was still in Charming, California, in his new apartment surrounded by his own things and that beautiful biker king still lying on his bed, his perfect lips slightly parted and his long wavy hair spread all across the pillow.

 _Damn_ , he thought, _he seems so peaceful that way._ Those deep dark circles around his eyes seemed to have disappeared a little along the evening, which was good because he deserved some rest, but on the other hand it occurred to him that maybe this had been Thorin’s first night of decent sleep in God knows how many nights, and that sucked in so many levels. He dared caressing those slightly purple closed eyelids and allowed himself smile at the gesture. So easy. So… innocent.

Thranduil sighed. It took him nothing deciding that he would let him sleep as a small gesture of gratefulness for the safety he had made him feel over the past few days. But the anxiety kept creeping over his chest like a wicked demon, he would need to find something useful to do soon or things would turn up nasty. At least, he thought, he would have a lot of busy days from now on, but until the DIY store opened he was confined to those four walls.

He got up anyway and he was far into setting the coffee machine into a program that wasn’t his favourite before realizing what he was doing. Groaning, he left it work anyway and proceeded to take a shower that he would have bet all of his nonexistent money to be cold, but it was so deliciously warm that he stayed until the last drop of hot water was used. Being the brilliant genius he was he had forgotten to pack a towel, so leaving the small steamy square was a choice he would face stoically if he caught pneumonia later. _Mental note, cut off my stupid hair at some point,_ he thought as soon as he realized that his long wet locks kept dripping what felt like ice shards over his back and all over the apartment. He braided it while he walked around the huge empty stance and ended up by the window, where the warm California sun brought him back to life. Pneumonia would have to fuck themself.

But that heavy weight in his chest just wouldn’t disappear and he was alone. Not that the soft snoring coming from his mattress wasn’t company, but then again he barely knew the guy. The empty loveless walls did no better job reassuring him he was safe and reminding him that tons of air were still available for him to breathe. Because the air was still there, right? It was. He would be dead if he wasn’t able to breathe for some reason. Then why was his throat clenching like a fist? And why the walls seemed too strange and empty and… _Oh god, please no,_ Thranduil thought as his heart raced trying to get the oxygen it just wasn’t there. Not for him, anyway. His vision turned blurry as he tried to focus on something that clinged him to reality, but everything was so awfully unfamiliar, his skin suddenly too tight, a flesh prison he couldn’t scape. _I’m going to die alone in a strange place. There’s nothing I can do, I’ve lost control over me._

One thought prevailed before giving up to the void. _Don’t let him witness this._

He stumbled back to the bathroom and locked himself in there. It took him what felt like a lifetime realizing he wouldn’t die, and that there was indeed a lot of air around him. He sucked in mouthfuls of air as tears pooled in his eyes and his limbs came back to life with a trembling that had nothing to do with the cold he was feeling.

He believed that after three weeks with no panic attacks he would be safe, but it seemed that a brief truce was all he would get. _Of course, what did you expect you fucktarded idiot? Being a fully functional person after only a few days away from hell? Wake up, princess._

He cried in silence for as long as he allowed himself that moment of weakness, and when cold finally became more unbearable than the feeling of being useful he got up and came back to the apartment to find some clothes. He decided that he didn’t care enough to be seen with his black painting dress and his dirty running slacks, so he put them on and sitted as quietly as he could in the mattress next to Thorin, who gladly paid no attention to all the hustle and was still peacefully snoring on his side.

Watching him after having that panic attack felt somehow like a cold awakening to reality. Thorin had enough in his plate to add unresolved issues Thranduil was not even close to resolve, forcing him to live with that was not only wrong, it was borderline dangerous. No, he would keep his issues to himself for now. And if things got out of hand… well, they would cross that bridge once they got there.

For now there was only one thing he could do.

He went back to the bathroom and retrieved his concealer from the cabinet. Well, there was nothing he could do about the swelling, but at least his lids didn’t look so red anymore. His original plan had been only disguise the redness, but as if he had been in autopilot he was applying highlighter. And then he was applying eyeliner. And a little lip balm, too. _Ugh._

 _Alright, maybe there’s two things I can do_ , he thought as he caught a shiny glimpse from his phone screen across the room.

An incoming text from his phone company lit the screen enough to catch his attention. When he unlocked the screen he thought he would be ready for the sight of the young ginger woman holding a tiny blond boy whose smiling eyes had the exact shade of blue as his, but, as usual, the picture was like a punch in his stomach. He rushed through his contacts until he found the one he was looking for. He tapped twice the screen and the name Tauriel appeared along with a picture of the woman. But not even two tones later he decided that what he was doing was stupid. Had he not promised protecting his family when he made the decision of leaving? Leaving her out of his messy life until he was able to say he was on his feet again was part of granting that protection, so even though every bone in his body ached to hear her voice, he just cut the call and sighed.

When the picture came back to his screen he stared at the little boy for a very long moment before taking in a deep breath and leaving the phone aside.

* * *

 

If Thorin had had the chance of choosing how he wanted to wake up, he’d have chosen waking to the chirping of birds at dawn, a sleepy Thranduil staring at him from beneath his long lashes and purring a barely conscious “good morning”.

But as life tends to be a bitch, he woke up dizzy in an empty bed to the ear crushing AC/DC tune in his phone.

The screen read ‘Bilbo’. That motherfucker.

“The fuck you want”, he grunted as greeting.

_“Just checking of you were alive, you're fucking welcome”_

“I’m fine, I didn't sleep at the club that's all”

_“And are you planning on returning soon or I have to attend all of your appointments?”_

“Chill man, it's early, give me a break”

The ironic laughter sounded way too irritating.

_“It’s almost ten, we opened two hours ago and you missed three appointments so far. I took care of the first two, your nephews are working on the third right now but according to this (do you call this an agenda?) your fourth appointment will be here in 15 minutes so you better fucking be here by then”_

Thorin started to think of a proper answer to grunt over the phone but then he realized.

“Wait a minute. Kili is at the shop?”

The blank noise across the line was all the answer he needed.

“For fuck’s sakes Bilbo, he’s supposed to be at school!”, he yelled as he tried to get up and button up his jeans, failing to do so because his bladder had decided not to collaborate, apparently. “Hang in there, bastard”, he grunted rushing to the toilet. Somewhere past his annoyance Thorin wondered where Thranduil had gone given that the coffee machine had freshly made coffee and his phone was plugged to the wall a few feet away from the mattress. But he still had to unleash hell over Bilbo.

“So? What’s your excuse?”, he demanded.

_“He’s a fucking adult Thorin, he gets to do whatever the hell he wants after a certain number of birthday cakes. Also, there’s a huge chance that the lad is happier when he’s balls deep into fixing an engine than attending to a useless Algebra or Russian Literature lesson or whatever the fuck kids learn these days. But hey, don’t take it from me, I’m a dickhead right?”_

“Like hell you are!”, Thorin roared. “Shut the fuck up for once and let me do the parent-”, he cut mid sentence, not being able to say the word out loud.

 _“Ha. Come telling me about parenting when you’re able to open your own shop in time and stop sleeping with teenagers, would ya”_ , said Bilbo, and hanged up. Thorin stared at the phone considering if smashing it against a wall would help with his overall bad mood, but at the mere thought he felt the need to grunt out loud because, once again, the hobbit had a huge fucking point right there.    

He didn’t have much time to fume at his leisure because Thranduil came back in that precise moment.

It was like an instant spell, the bad mood forgotten in the moment Thranduil’s calm aura entered the stance washing away any kind of negativity. The black loose tunic was a pleasant surprise, and so it was the tight long braid. Would he ever get used, though, to the warm glow he spread around whenever the sun touched him? And whatever he was bringing in those plastic trays smelled so delicious that he felt like falling to his knees and thank whatever god was available to get the praise.

“Hey”, he greeted under his breath. A shy smile spread across the blonde’s man face, who was busy closing the door with his foot. _Did he have anything remotely imperfect?_ , Thorin wondered looking at the elegant arch of the even more elegant foot barely covered with what looked like ragged leather straps but it was probably a handmade sandal bought in Fifth Avenue that costed a month’s worth of fuel for his bike.

“I’d say that I hope I didn’t wake you up but it looks someone else did that for me”, he said moving carefully towards his improvised cabinet so he could place the trays without spilling their contents. _Is it me or there’s something about him this morning?_ , Thorin observed noticing the slow movements and the puffy eyes. _Maybe it’s just how pretty people look when they get up early,_ he thought. _But maybe not_ , that one little voice remarked going back to the slightly more pronounced pout in Thranduil’s mouth.

“I can’t even begin to tell you how badly I wished it had been you waking me up”, he said instead, approaching him from behind as he unpacked the trays. Thranduil jumped a little when he put his big arms around his waist, but chuckled immediately. Thorin had not noticed that Thranduil was actually an inch or two taller than him until then, and he found it adorable.

“Good morning”, Thranduil said in a small voice caressing the strong arms around him. The slight tremble did not go unnoticed, so Thorin responded with a kiss in his nape and a small tug before letting go.

“Good morning, boo”, he said turning around to face him. When he fondled Thranduil’s cheek and the man leaned into the caress closing his eyes, he knew for sure that something was wrong. “Are you alright? You look tired”

“Oh, you mean the rehab patient look”, he said chuckling again, “this is how you usually look when you get up early”

“Was that a lecture, mister?”, Thorin joked.

“Maybe”, Thranduil granted with a more genuine smile. “I brought us breakfast”, he continued moving aside and revealing the contents of the trays. Thorin’s heart melted in his chest when he saw the tray with scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage and a few slices of Lobelia’s homemade bread, but it melted a little more when he saw the granola and the fresh fruit salad in the second tray, and a pile of hot waffles in the remaining tray.

He was speechless and staring at Thranduil as if he was Jesus himself, which apparently made Thranduil happy. The glow had returned to his eyes, finally.

“I have no idea what you usually have for breakfast so I covered the basics”, he said shrugging.

“I usually have some more sleep for breakfast”, Thorin pointed out going for a bite of melon. He wrapped in bacon and had it with a pleased grunt that earned him yet another bubbly chuckle from Thranduil. “You are the best, you know that, right?”, he said going for a slice of bread and some eggs.

“I try to”, he said in a small voice, but he continued right before that alarm in the back of Thorin’s head started beeping like crazy and he was able to acknowledge what was a real sign of something going on. “So, who had the pleasure of waking you up?”

The biker had a really hard time trying to ignore his head and try to converse in a casual tone given that he was now openly worried for how defeated Thranduil had just sounded. _Just snooze the alarm, idiot._ He gave up sitting in the mattress next to him and grabbing some more food.

“Bilbo, of course. He just wanted to know where I was, they opened the shop without me and my appointments were lining up”

“Oh”, Thranduil said dropping his fork in the middle of the fruit bowl. “Shouldn’t you go then?”

“You kidding? They can handle a few flat tires, they’re all grown up”, he grunted repeating parenting in a mocking Bilbo voice in his head. “As for me? There’s literally nothing more important right now than having breakfast with you”

 _Oh, fuck me to hell and back_ , he thought when Thranduil blushed and stared at him in awe.

The food didn’t last more than fifteen minutes though, even making another round of coffee. They made the silent agreement of washing the mugs and gather the trays to dispose them later, but the list of chores wasn’t all that long either. All too soon it was time to go, and neither of them felt like separating yet.

“Can I hold you for a sec?”, Thorin asked reclining on the window frame. Thranduil showed no hesitation when he leaned on his broad chest and let his head rest on his shoulder. A deep sigh followed as he felt the tension leaving his body, which almost made Thorin think again about his decision of finally stop hitting the snooze button.

“Are you feeling better from whatever happened before I woke up?”, Thorin ventured, only to feel Thranduil build up tension again. _Good fucking job, Satan._

“H-how-”, he stuttered with his blue eyes hurt with fear.

“I know everything about trying to hide something that’s breaking you in half and not wanting to worry someone you care about”, he said framing Thranduil’s delicate face with his callused hands. The blonde man took a few deep breaths as he decided if he should speak or not. All kinds of calculations were going on in those eyes, blurry with unspilled tears.

“I’m just… not used to this, you know? It’s been so long since I felt like I belonged myself that I just… I’m learning how to breathe on my own again after a long time of not being able to, you know what I mean? I still feel like one day I’ll wake up in New York and all of this will be just a beautiful dream I had to escape from my reality”, Thranduil said in a cracked voice, openly crying now. Thorin held him tight, his own tears slowly pooling.

Dear Lord, it was all way too familiar now. The hurt, the fear. The helplessness.

“I know exactly what you mean”, he said in a voice that despite sounding like his own didn’t sound at all like his own, but someone else’s. “And you know what else I know?”, he continued, the stream of words (and his own tears) flowing like a painful dèja vu, “I know how hard you’re fighting to remain whole right now, and I know the road seems long but you are strong enough to keep walking it, with your broken bits and all. The worst is behind you, now it’s time to grab this world and make it home again, alright? And if you let me, I got your back until you fix yourself. I promise you, you’ll be yourself again”

Thranduil looked as if he had been hit by a bus all of a sudden, fully aware of what Thorin was implying in the hidden wisdom of his words.

“Why do you sound like you know exactly what I’ve been through?”, he demanded.

“Been there too, and I’m too damn well trained to recognize when someone’s been through the same hell and lived to tell it. But that’s a story for another day, alright? I want you to smile today.

“Which actually gives me an idea”, Thorin continued, talking now from a peak of protective instinct, “wanna come to the shop today? So at least you won’t be alone?”

“I…”, Thranduil hesitated, lowering his gaze with guilt. Thorin nodded to himself, understanding the struggle.

“Feel free to come if you need company, sweetheart, no pressure”, he reassured with a tiny squeeze to Thranduil’s high and soft cheekbone. The gesture actually took a smile from his pouty lips, which made him feel like a million dollars.

“I’m sorry Thorin, I really wish I could save you all this”, Thranduil apologized holding the hand that had just touched his face. The biker’s arms gave the embrace the younger man didn’t dare to ask out loud despite his whole body begging to get it.

“That thing you said last night, about us being worth the shot and you trying to be what I needed? Let me try too. I’ll try as hard as you deserve, love. You don’t have to be alone with all that pain, you know?”, Thorin said in a low sweet voice that made him embarrassed of all the yelling from earlier.

Aaaand then it hit home. Of _fucking_ course. _Damn, what if he had heard the whole thing?_

“I’ll change really quick, Bilbo will kim himself if his boss shows up late with a man in a dress”, Thranduil finally said, sounding more like himself. And although Thorin laughed to himself at the idea of Thranduil showing up in that lovely tunic generating a wide range of reactions in his brothers, the laughter died quite quickly after taking a closer look at Thranduil under that new light.

Damn, it was like a flashback, truly. The rehearsed slow manners resembled his sister’s and Fili’s way too closely. The tired gaze in those eyes was one he had seen so many times in his own reflection, even after all those years. And didn’t the need of being validated still creep over his literal every action?

And he didn’t have to wonder anymore if Thranduil had heard him yelling at Bilbo. _Of course he had._

* * *

 

Thranduil couldn’t possibly be more grateful towards Lobelia. Not only she had given him all kinds of directions so he was able to fix his apartment by himself, she had excelled so much in the breakfast she had offered him that he wouldn’t even complain if, by one of those funny come outs in life, the whereabouts of the biker king became of public knowledge by noon.

As he climbed the stairs trying really hard of not fucking up by skipping a step, he couldn’t help noticing that even after all the early morning madness he was still following the protocol at heart. Get up at 8 am, set the coffee machine, get himself pretty, making breakfast… But he was doing it by his own will, wasn’t he? After all, it didn’t hurt at all getting up early and make it count. _Yeah, report that to your servile ass, airhead._

He put those grim thoughts aside before getting more irritated with himself, noticing that he was at the door already and he should hurry to get all that food away from his clumsy hands. With a silent prayer he piled the trays in one hand and he was about to turn the key, but he froze when a roaring sound pierced through the walls and made him shake with fear.

“For fuck’s sakes Bilbo, he’s supposed to be at school!”

It was Thorin. The sweet, caring, protective man he had held in his arms all night, screaming at his best friend in the most terrifying tone he had heard in a long time. It couldn’t be the same person, it was impossible.

Thranduil could literally feel the ground at his feet crumbling over itself, dragging him to the depths of a dark pit where nothing but the feeling of being imprisoned existed. _Please, don’t let this be happening_ , he prayed.

Suddenly he wasn’t in Charming anymore. He was back in an expensive, unpolluted kitchen in an even more expensive and unpolluted penthouse in Manhattan, silently checking a pan with fried eggs as he cut fresh fruit in perfectly shaped cubes, his face a perfect blank mask as another man with a quite similar roaring voice yelled at some random employee over the phone. He knew that as soon as the phone call ended the man would turn to him finding any excuse to yell at him, too. He would look at him dead in the eye swearing he had found a way of burning the eggs, or that the fruit was too ripe, and he would call him names, he would call him a useless princess and he would probably smack him too, ruining his make up with a red mark and forcing him later to redo it for the sake of appearances. And, finally, he would tell him he had no time to have breakfast with him, so he would end up eating by himself with tears in his eyes and the feeling of failure heavy in his heart.

It took Thranduil every ounce of strength in his body to return to Charming and hold on to present. He wasn’t there anymore, it was all in the past, he had been able to escape and he was now living under his own rules.

Oh, but it was all so awfully similar. He could almost predict how he would enter his apartment with breakfast only to hear that Thorin should go straight to work because he had overslept. He would probably be mad at him for not waking him up earlier, too. What if he yelled at him? Thranduil felt at the verge of panic again, his throat clenching painfully.

 _No_ , a firm rational voice said in the back of his head. _It’s not him. He would never do that to you_. He had seen it in his eyes right after they kissed, and every minute since the very first moment they met. He had worked harder than anyone he had met in his life to earn his trust. _He will never do any of that to me._

“Like hell you are!”

 _He will never do any of that to me_ , he repeated himself. _It’s only a bad day. But then again, didn’t you say that about Benedict every time you ended up with a swollen cheek?_

Thranduil took a deep breath and hoped the complete silence was a good sign.

Unable to control his shaking hands, he turned the key.      

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back. Can you believe I'm back? I can't, that's for sure. But since I'm here, I owe you all of you a huge apology for delaying this chapter for such a long time, all of you whom encouraged me since day one to publish this story deserve the world, a huge apology and an even bigger THANK YOU for all of those who came back to this story and let me know in the comments, I swear every time I checked my inbox my heart ached a little more for not being able to continue publishing. Alright, so I made a comment a few days ago about how I had some personal issues that held me back from continuing this story, and let me tell you that despite feeling so much guilt for neglecting my publishing I still don't regret taking all the time I took for healing, because otherwise this story would have been terribly written. Long short story, I've suffered from domestic violence. I'm lucky enough to be surrounded by loving people who helped me out of that toxic home and even more lucky to be channeling the worst moment of my life into my writing, even if it took me two years and a lot of pain I'm still healing. Since the very first sentence I knew this story would address domestic violence and I always feared I wasn't able to do so properly, for better or for worse I know now, and this will help me address it in a way that I hope it's real and respectful for violence survivors, and not some romanticized tale about abuse. Maybe it's not my place, and maybe some of you are only here for the story, but if you allow me some advice from someone who doesn't want anyone to go through this ever? If you're going through domestic violence and you have the chance of seeking help and leaving, don't you ever doubt, do it. Put your life and your safety over anything else always.  
> Thank you again for sticking with me and I really hope you get to love this chapter as much as I do.


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